THE  ENTAILED  HAT 


OR 


PATTY  CANNON'S  TIMES 


Romance 


BY   GEORGE   ALFRED   TOWNSEND 

"GATH" 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN   SQUARE 

1884 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1884,  by 

HARPER  & 


In  the  Office  of  tte  .Librarian  .of.  Congress,  at  "Washingt 


AH  rights  retcrvid. 


TO 

JUDGE  GEORGE  P.  FISHER 

OF  DELAWARE 
AND 

HON.  JOHN  A.  J.  CRESWELL 

OF  MARYLAND 

LOVERS  OF  OLD  TIMES 

WELCOMERS  OF  THE  NEW  ERA 


"  Friends  !  trust  not  the  heart  of  that  man  for  whom  Old  Clothes 
are  not  venerable." — CARLYLE  :  Sartor  Kesarttis 


M11997 


INTRODUCTION. 


ONCE  the  author  awoke  to  a  painful  reflection  that  he 
knew  no  place  well,  though  his  occupation  had  taken  him 
to  many,  and  that,  after  twenty-five  years  of  describing 
localities  and  society,  he  would  be  identified  with  none. 

"Where  shall  I  begin  to  rove  within  confines?"  he 
asked,  feeling  the  vacant  spaces  in  his  nature :  the  want 
of  all  those  birds,  forest  trees,  household  habits,  weeds, 
instincts  of  the  brooks,  and  tints  and  tones  of  the  local 
species  which  lie  in  some  neighborhood's  compass,  and 
complete  the  pastoral  mind. 

Numerous  districts  rose  up  and  contended  together, 
each  attractive  from  some  striking  scene,  or  bold  con 
trast,  or  lovely  face ;  and  wiser  policy  might  have  led 
his  inclinations  to  one  of  these,  redundant,  perhaps,  in 
wealth  or  literary  appreciation  ;  yet  the  heart  began  to 
turn,  as  in  first  love,  or  vagrancy  almost  as  sweet,  to  the 
little,  lowly  region  where  his  short  childhood  was  lived, 
and  where  the  unknown  generations  of  his  people  dark 
ened  the  sand — the  peninsula  between  the  Chesapeake 
and  the  Delaware. 

Far  down  this  peninsula  lies  the  old  town  of  Snow  Hill, 
on  the  border  of  Virginia  j  there  the  pilgrim  entered  the 
court-house,  and  asked  to  see  an  early  book  of  wills,  and 
in  it  he  turned  to  the  name  of  a  maternal  ancestor,  of 
whom  grand  tales  had  been  told  him  by  an  aged  rela 
tive.  His  breath  was  almost  taken  by  finding  the  fol 
lowing  provisions,  dated  February  12,  1800  : 

"  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son,  Ralph  Milbourn,  MY 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

BEST  HAT,  TO    HIM  AND    HIS   ASSIGNEES    FOREVER,  and    11O 

more  of  my  estate. 

"  I  give  to  Thomas  Milbourn  my  small  iron  kettle,  my 
brandy  still,  all  my  hand-irons,  my  pot-rack,  and  fifteen 
pounds  bond  that  he  gave  to  my  daughter,  Grace  Mil- 
bourn." 

The  next  day  a  doctor  took  the  author  on  his  rounds 
through  "  the  Forest,"  as  a  neighboring  tract  was  almost 
too  invidiously  called,  and  through  a  deserted  iron-fur 
nace  village  almost  of  the  date  of  these  wills. 

Everywhere  he  went  the  Entailed  Hat  seemed,  to  the 
stranger  in  the  land  of  his  forefathers,  to  appear  in  the 
vistas,  as  if  some  odd,  reverend,  avoided  being  was  wear 
ing  it  down  the  defiles  of  time.  Now  like  Hester  Prynne 
wearing  her  Scarlet  Letter,  and  now  like  Gaston  in  his 
Iron  Mask,  this  being  took  both  sexes  and  different  char 
acters,  as  the  author  weighed  the  probabilities  of  its  ex 
istence.  At  last  he  began  to  know  it,  and  started  to  por 
tray  it  in  a  little  tale. 

The  story  broke  from  its  confines  as  his  own  family 
generation  had  broken  from  that  forest,  and  sought  a 
larger  hemisphere ;  yet,  wherever  the  mystic  Hat  pro 
ceeded,  his  truant  fancy  had  also  been  led  by  his  moth 
er's  hand. 

Often  had  she  told  him  of  old  Patty  Cannon  and  her 
kidnapper's  den,  and  her  death  in  the  jail  of  his  native 
town.  He  found  the  legend  of  that  dreaded  woman  had 
strengthened  instead  of  having  faded  with  time,  and  her 
haunts  preserved,  and  eye-witnesses  of  her  deeds  to  be 
still  living. 

Hence,  this  romance  has  much  local  truth  in  it,  and  is 
not  only  the  narration  of  an  episode,  but  the  story  of  a 
large  region  comprehending  three  state  jurisdictions,  and 
also  of  that  period  when  modern  life  arose  upon  the  ruins 
of  old  colonial  caste. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Two  HAT  WEARERS i 

II.  JUDGE  AND  DAUGHTER 6 

III.  THE  FORESTERS 15 

IV.  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  HEIRLOOM 19 

V.  THE  BOG-ORE  TRACT 25 

VI.  THE  CUSTISES  RUINED 32 

VII.  JACK-O'-LANTERN  IRON 40 

VIII.  THE  HAT  FINDS  A  RACK 45 

IX.  HA  !  HA  !  THE  WOOING  ON'T 69 

X.  MASTER  IN  THE  KITCHEN 83 

XL  DYING  PRIDE 89 

XII.  PRINCESS  ANNE  FOLKS 100 

XIII.  SHADOW  OF  THE  TILE. ,  121 

XIV.  MESHACH'S  HOME 129 

XV.  THE  KIDNAPPER , 154 

XVI.  BELL-CROWN  MAN 164 

XVII.  SABBATH  AND  CANOE 179 

XVIII.  UNDER  AN  OLD  BONNET 192 

XIX.  THE  DUSKY  LEVELS 210 

XX.  CASTE  WITHOUT  TONE 218 

XXI.  LONG  SEPARATIONS 239 

XXII.  NANTICOKE  PEOPLE 261 

XXIII.  TWIFORD'S  ISLAND 269 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XXIV.  OLD  CHIMNEYS 285 

XXV.  PATTY  CANNON'S 298 

XXVI.  VAN  DORN 318 

XXVII.  CANNON'S  FERRY 335 

XXVIII.  PACIFICATION 357 

XXIX.  BEGINNING  OF  THE  RAID 360 

XXX.  AFRICA 365 

XXXI.  PEACH  BLUSH 373 

XXXII.  GARTER-SNAKES 39* 

XXXIII.  HONEYMOON 4°5 

XXXIV.  THE  ORDEAL 411 

XXXV.  COWGILL  HOUSE 424 

XXXVI.  Two  WHIGS 433 

XXXVII.  SPIRITS  OF  THE  PAST 441 

XXXVIII.  VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT 456 

XXXIX.  VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT — CONTINUED 468 

XL.  HULDA  BELEAGUERED 486 

XLI.  AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK 496 

XLII.  BEAKS 5IQ 

XLIII.  PLEASURE  DRAINED 515 

XLIV.  THE  DEATH  OF  PATTY  CANNON 524 

XLV.  THE  JUDGE  REMARRIED 542 

XLVI.  THE  CURSE  OF  THE  HAT 554 

XLVII.  FAILURE  AND  RESTITUTION 558 


A  picture  of  Joe  Johnson's  Kidnapper's  Tavern,  as  it  stood  in  the 
year  1883,  is  given  on  the  title-page. 


THE  ENTAILED   HAT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TWO    HAT   WEARERS. 

PRINCESS  ANNE,  as  its  royal  name  implies,  is  an  old 
seat  of  justice,  and  gentle-minded  town  on  the  Eastern 
Shore.  The  ancient  county  of  Somerset  having  been 
divided  many  years  before  the  revolutionary  war,  and  its 
courts  separated,  the  original  court-house  faded  from  the 
world,  and  the  forest  pines  have  concealed  its  site.  Two 
new  towns  arose,  and  flourish  yet,  around  the  original 
records  gathered  into  their  plain  brick  offices,  and  he 
would  be  a  forgetful  visitor  in  Princess  Anne  who  would 
not  say  it  had  the  better  society.  He  would  get  assur 
ances  of  this  from  "  the  best  people  "  living  there ;  and 
yet  more  solemn  assurances  from  the  two  venerable 
churches,  Presbyterian  and  Episcopalian,  whose  grave 
stones,  upright  or  recumbent,  or  in  family  rows,  say,  in 
epitaphs  Latinized,  poetical,  or  pious,  "  We  belonged  to 
the  society  of  Princess  Anne."  That,  at  least,  is  the  im 
pression  left  on  the  visitor  as  he  wanders  amid  their 
myrtle  and  creeper,  or  receives,  on  the  wide,  loamy 
streets,  the  bows  of  the  lawyers  and  their  clients. 

There  were  but  two  eccentric  men  living  in  Princess 
Anne  in  the  early  half  of  our  century,  and  both  of  them 
were  identified  by  their  hats. 

The  first  was  Jack  Wonnell,  a  poor  fellow  of  some  re 
mote  origin  who  had  once  attended  an  auction,  and  bought 

i 


2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

a  quarter  gross  of  beaver  hats.  Although  that  happened 
years  before  our  story  opens,  and  the  fashions  had  changed, 
Jack  produced  a  new  hat  from  the  stock  no  oftener  than 
when  he  had  well  worn  its  predecessor,  and,  at  the  rate 
of  two  hats  a  year,  was  very  slowly  extinguishing  the 
store.  Like  most  people  who  frequent  auctions,  he  was 
not  provident,  except  in  hats,  and  presented  a  startling 
appearance  in  his  patched  and  shrunken  raiment  when 
he  mounted  a  bright,  new  tile,  and  took  to  the  sidewalk. 
His  name  had  become,  in  all  grades  of  society,  "  Bell- 
crown." 

The  other  eccentric  citizen  was  the  subject  of  a  real 
mystery,  and  even  more  burlesque.  He  wore  a  hat, 
apparently  more  than  a  century  old,  of  a  tall,  steeple 
crown,  and  stiff,  wavy  brim,  and  nearly  twice  as  high  as 
the  cylinders  or  high  hats  of  these  days.  It  had  been 
rubbed  and  re-covered  and  cleaned  and  straightened, 
until  its  grotesque  appearance  was  infinitely  increased. 
If  the  wearer  had  walked  out  of  the  court  of  King  James 
I.  directly  into  our  times  and  presence,  he  could  not  have 
produced  a  more  singular  effect.  He  did  not  wear  this 
hat  on  every  occasion,  nor  every  day,  but  always  on  Sab 
baths  and  holidays,  on  funeral  or  corporate  celebrations, 
on  certain  English  church  days,  and  whenever  he  wore 
the  remainder  of  his  extra  suit,  which  was  likewise  of  the 
genteel  -  shabby  kind,  and  terminated  by  greenish  gai 
ters,  nearly  the  counterpart,  in  color,  of  the  hat.  To 
daily  business  he  wore  a  cheap,  common  broadbrim,  but 
sometimes,  for  several  days,  on  freak  or  unknown  method, 
he  wore  this  steeple  hat,  and  strangers  in  the  place  gen 
erally  got  an  opportunity  to  see  it. 

Meshach  Milburn,  or  "  Steeple-top,"  was  a  penurious, 
grasping,  hardly  social  man  of  neighborhood  origin,  but 
of  a  family  generally  unsuccessful  and  undistinguished, 
which  had  been  said  to  be  dying  out  for  so  many  years 
that  it  seemed  to  be  always  a  remnant,  yet  never  quite 


TWO    HAT   WEARERS.  3 

gone.  He  alone  of  the  Milburns  had  lifted  himself  out 
of  the  forest  region  of  Somerset,  and  settled  in  the  town, 
and,  by  silence,  frugality,  hard  bargaining,  and,  finally,  by 
money-lending,  had  become  a  person  of  unknown  means 
— himself  almost  unknown.  He  was,  ostensibly,  a  mer 
chant  or  storekeeper,  and  did  deal  in  various  kinds  of 
things,  keeping  no  clerk  or  attendant  but  a  negro  named 
Samson,  who  knew  as  little  about  his  mind  and  affections 
as  the  rest  of  the  town.  Samson's  business  was  to  clean 
and  produce  the  mysterious  hat,  which  he  knew  to  be  re 
quired  every  time  he  saw  his  master  shave. 

As  soon  as  the  lather-cup  and  hone  were  agitated, 
Samson,  without  inquiry,  went  into  a  big  green  chest  in 
the  bedroom  over  the  old  wooden  store,  and  drew  out  of 
a  leather  hat-box  the  steeple-crown,  where  Meshach  Mil- 
burn  himself  always  sacredly  replaced  it.  Then  "  Sam 
son  Hat,"  as  the  boys  called  him,  exercised  his  brush 
vigorously,  and  put  the  queer  old  head-gear  in  as  formal 
shape  as  possible,  and  he  silently  attended  to  its  reha 
bilitation  through  the  medium  of  the  village  hatter,  never 
leaving  the  shop  until  the  tile  had  been  repaired,  and  suf 
fering  none  whatever  to  handle  it  except  the  mechanic. 
In  addition  to  this,  Samson  cooked  his  master's  food, 
and  performed  rough  work  around  the  store,  but  had  no 
other  known  qualification  for  a  confidential  servant  ex 
cept  his  bodily  power. 

He  was  now  old,  probably  sixty,  but  still  a  most  for 
midable  pugilist ;  and  he  had  caught,  running  afoot,  the 
last  wild  deer  in  the  county.  Though  not  a  drinking 
man,  Samson  Hat  never  let  a  year  pass  without  having 
a  personal  battle  with  some  young,  willing,  and  powerful 
negro.  His  physical  and  mental  system  seemed  to  re 
quire  some  such  periodical  indulgence,  and  he  measured 
every  negro  who  came  to  town  solely  in  the  light  of  his 
prowess.  At  the  appearance  of  some  Herculean  or  clean- 
chested  athlete,  Samson's  eye  would,  kindle,  his  smile 


4  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

start  up,  and  his  friendly  salutation  would  be  :  "  You're 
a  good  man !  'Most  as  good  as  me !"  He  was  never 
whipped,  rumor  said,  but  by  an  inoffensive  black  class- 
leader  whom  he  challenged  and  compelled  to  fight. 

"  Befo'  God,  man,  I  never  see  you  befo' !  I'se  jined 
cle  church  !  I  kint  fight !  I  never  didn't  do  it !" 

"  Can't  help  it,  brother  !"  answered  Samson.  "  You're 
too  good  a  man  to  go  froo  Somerset  County.  Square  off 
or  you'll  ketch  it'!" 

"  Den  if  I  must  I  must !  de  Lord  forgive  me !"  and 
after  a  tremendous  battle  the  class-leader  came  off  near 
ly  conqueror. 

Whenever  Samson  indulged  his  gladiatorial  propensi 
ties  he  disappeared  into  the  forest  whence  he  came,  and 
being  a  free  man  of  mental  independence  equal  to  his 
nerve,  he  merely  waited  in  his  lonely  cabin  until  Meshach 
Milburn  sent  him  word  to  return.  Then  silently  the 
old  negro  resumed  his  place,  looked  contrition,  took  the 
few  bitter,  overbearing  words  of  his  master  silently,  and 
brushed  the  ancient  hat. 

Meshach  kept  him  respectably  dressed,  but  paid  him 
no  wages ;  the  negro  had  what  he  wanted,  but  wanted  lit 
tle;  on  more  than  one  occasion  the  court  had  imposed 
penalties  on  Samson's  breaches  of  the  peace,  and  he  lay 
in  jail,  unsolicitous  and  proud,  until  Meshach  Milburn 
paid  the  fine, which  he  did  grudgingly;  for  money  was  Me- 
shach's  sole  pursuit,  and  he  spent  nothing  upon  himself. 

Without  a  vice,  it  appeared  that  Meshach  Milburn  had 
not  an  emotion,  hardly  a  virtue.  He  had  neither  pity 
nor  curiosity,  visitors  nor  friends,  professions  nor  apolo 
gies.  Two  or  three  times  he  had  been  summoned  on  a 
jury,  when  he  put  on  his  best  suit  and  his  steeple-crown, 
and  formally  went  through  his  task.  He  attended  the 
Episcopal  worship  every  Sunday  and  great  holiday,  wear 
ing  inevitably  the  ancient  tile,  which  often  of  itself  drew 
audience  more  than  the  sermon.  He  gave  a  very  small 


TWO    HAT    WEARERS.  5 

sum  of  money  and  took  a  cheap  pew,  and  read  from  his 
prayer-book  many  admonitions  he  did  not  follow. 

He  was  not  litigious,  but  there  was  no  evading  the  per- 
fectness  of  his  contracts.  His  searching  and  large  hazel 
eyes,  almost  proud  and  quite  unkindly,  and  his  Indian- 
like  hair,  were  the  leading  elements  of  a  face  not  large, 
but  appearing  so,  as  if  the  buried  will  of  some  long  frivo 
lous  family  had  been  restored  and  concentrated  in  this 
man  and  had  given  a  bilious  power  to  his  brows  and 
jaws  and  glances. 

His  eccentricity  had  no  apparent  harmony  with  any 
thing  else  nor  any  especial  sensibility  about  it.  The 
boys  hooted  his  hat,  and  the  little  girls  often  joined  in, 
crying  "  Steeple-top  !  He's  got  it  on  !  Meshach's  loose  !" 
But  he  paid  no  attention  to  anybody,  until  once,  at  court 
time,  some  carousing  fellows  hired  Jack  Wonnell  to  walk 
up  to  Meshach  Milburn  and  ask  to  swap  a  new  bell- 
crown  for  the  old  decrepit  steeple-top.  Looking  at  Won 
nell  sternly  in  the  face,  Meshach  hissed,  "You  miserable 
vagrant !  Nature  meant  you  to  go  bareheaded.  Beware 
when  you  speak  to  me  again  !" 

"  I  was  afraid  of  him,"  said  Jack  Wonnell,  afterwards. 
"  He  seemed  to  have  a  loaded  pistol  in  each  eye." 

No  other  incident,  beyond  indiscriminate  ridicule,  was 
recorded  of  this  hat,  except  once,  when  a  group  of  little 
children  in  front  of  Judge  Custis's  house  began  to  whis 
per  and  titter,  and  one,  bolder  than  the  rest,  the  Judge's 
daughter,  gravely  walked  up  to  the  unsocial  man ;  it  was 
the  first  of  May,  and  he  was  in  his  best  suit : 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "may  I  put  a  rose  in  your  old  hat?" 

The  harsh  man  looked  down  at  the  little  queenly  child, 
standing  straight  and  slender,  with  an  expression  on  her 
face  of  composure  and  courtesy.  Then  he  looked  up  and 
over  the  Judge's  residence  to  see  if  any  mischievous  or 
presuming  person  had  prompted  this  act.  No  one  was 
in  sight,  and  the  other  children  had  run  away. 


6  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Why  do  you  offer  me  a  flower?"  he  said,  but  with  no 
tenderness. 

"  Because  I  thought  such  a  very  old  hat  might  improve 
with  a  rose." 

He  hesitated  a  minute.  The  little  girl,  as  if  well-born, 
received  his  strong  stare  steadily.  He  took  off  the  vener 
able  old  head-gear,  and  put  it  in  the  pretty  maid's  hand. 
She  fixed  a  white  rose  to  it,  and  then  he  placed  the  hat 
and  rose  again  on  his  head  and  took  a  small  piece  of 
gold  from  his  pocket. 

"Will  you  take  this?" 

"My  father  will  not  let  me,  sir !" 

Meshach  Milburn  replaced  the  coin  and  said  nothing- 
else,  but  walked  down  the  streets,  amid  more  than  the 
usual  simpering,  and  the  weather-beaten  door  of  the  lit 
tle  rickety  storehouse  closed  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JUDGE   AND   DAUGHTER. 

JUDGE  CUSTIS  was  the  most  important  man  in  the 
county.  He  belonged  to  the  oldest  colonial  family  of 
distinction,  the  Custises  of  Northampton,  whose  fortune, 
beginning  with  King  Charles  II.  and  his  tavern  credits 
in  Rotterdam,  ended  in  endowing  Colonel  George  Wash 
ington  with  a  widow's  mite.  The  Judge  at  Princess  Anne 
was  the  most  handsome  man,  the  father  of  the  finest 
family  of  sons  and  daughters,  the  best  in  estate,  most 
various  in  knowledge,  and  the  most  convivial  of  Custises. 

In  that  region  of  the  Eastern  Shore  there  is  so  little 
diversity  of  productions,  the  ocean  and  the  loam  alone 
contributing  to  man,  that  Judge  Custis  had  an  exagger 
ated  reputation  as  a  mineralogist. 

He  had  begun  to  manufacture  iron  out  of  the  bog  ores 


JUDGE    AND   DAUGHTER.  7 

found  in  the  swamps  and  hummocks  of  a  neighboring 
district,  and,  with  the  tastes  of  a  landholding  and  slave- 
holding  family,  had  erected  around  his  furnace  a  consid 
erable  town,  his  own  residence  as  proprietor  conspicuous 
in  the  midst.  There  he  spent  a  large  part  of  the  time, 
and  not  always  in  the  company  of  his  family,  entertain 
ing  friends  from  the  distant  cities,  enjoying  the  luxuries 
of  terrapin,  duck,  and  wines,  and,  as  rumor  said  in  the 
forest,  all  the  pleasures  of  a  Russian  or  German  noble 
man  on  a  secluded  estate. 

He  could  lie  down  on  the  ground  with  the  barefooted 
foresters,  equal  and  familiar  with  them,  and  carry  off 
their  suffrages  for  the  State  Senate  or  the  Assembly.  In 
Princess  Anne  he  was  more  discriminating,  rising  in  that 
society  to  his  family  stature,  and  surrounded  by  alliances 
which  demanded  what  is  called  "  bearing."  In  short,  he 
was  the  head  of  the  community,  and  his  wealth,  originally 
considerable,  had  been  augmented  by  marriage,  while  his 
credit  extended  to  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore. 

Not  long  after  the  occurrence  of  his  young  daughter, 
Vesta,  placing  the  rose  in  Meshach  Milburn's  mysteri 
ous  hat,  Judge  Custis  said  to  his  lady  at  the  breakfast- 
table  : 

"That  man  has  been  allowed  to  shut  himself  in,  like  a 
dog,  too  long.  He  owes  something  to  this  community. 
I'll  go  down  to  his  kennel,  under  pretence  of  wanting  a 
loan — and  I  do  need  some  money  for  the  furnace !" 

He  took  his  cane  after  breakfast  and  passed  out  of  his 
large  mansion,  and  down  the  sidewalk  of  the  level  street. 
There  were,  as  usually,  some  negroes  around  Milburn's 
small,  weather-stained  store,  and  Samson  Hat,  among 
them,  shook  hands  with  the  Judge,  not  a  particle  dis 
turbed  at  the  latter's  condescension. 

"Judge,"  said  Samson,  looking  that  large,  portly  gen 
tleman  over,  "you'se  a  good  man  yet.  But  de  flesh  is  a 
little  soft  in  yo'  muscle,  Judge." 


8  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Ah !  Samson,"  answered  Custis,  "  there's  one  old  fel 
low  that  is  wrastling  you." 

"Time?"  said  the  negro;  "we  can't  fight  him,  sho ! 
Dat's  a  fack !  But  I'm  good  as  any  man  in  Somerset  now." 

"  Except  my  daughter's  boy,  the  class-leader  from  Tal- 
bot." 

"  Is  dat  boy  in  yo'  family,"  exclaimed  Samson,  kindling 
up.  "  I'll  walk  dar  if  he'll  give  me  another  throw." 

The  Judge  passed  into  the  wide-open  door  of  Meshach 
Milburn's  store.  A  few  negroes  and  poor  whites  were  at 
the  counter,  and  Meshach  was  measuring  whiskey  out  to 
them  by  the  cheap  dram  in  exchange  for  coonskins  and 
eggs.  He  looked  up,  just  a  trifle  surprised  at  the  princi 
pal  man's  advent,  and  merely  said,  without  nodding: 

"'Morning!" 

Judge  Custis  never  flinched  from  anybody,  but  his  in 
telligence  recognized  in  Meshach's  eyes  a  kind  of  nature 
he  had  not  yet  met,  though  he  was  of  universal  acquaint 
ance.  It  was  not  hostility,  nor  welcome,  nor  indiffer 
ence.  It  was  not  exactly  spirit.  As  nearly  as  the  Judge 
could  formulate  it,  the  expression  was  habitual  self-reli 
ance,  and  if  not  habitual  suspicion,  the  feeling  most  near 
it,  which  comes  from  conscious  unpopularity. 

"  Mr.  Milburn,"  said  Judge  Custis,  "  when  you  are  at 
leisure  let  me  have  a  few  words  with  you." 

The  storekeeper  turned  to  the  poor  folks  in  his  little 
area  and  remarked  to  them  bluntly : 

"You  can  come  back  in  ten  minutes." 

They  all  went  out  without  further  command.  Milburn 
closed  the  door.  The  Judge  moved  a  chair  and  sat 
down. 

"Milburn,"  he  said,  dropping  the  formal  "'mister," 
"  they  tell  me  you  lend  money,  and  that  you  charge  well 
for  it.  I  am  a  borrower  sometimes,  and  I  believe  in 
keeping  interest  at  home  in  our  own  community.  Will 
you  discount  my  note  at  legal  interest?" 


JUDGE   AND   DAUGHTER.  9 

"  Never,"  replied  Meshach. 

"  Then,"  said  the  Judge,  smiling,  "  you'll  put  me  to 
some  inconvenience." 

"  That's  more  than  legal  interest,"  answered  Milburn, 
sturdily.  "  You'll  pay  the  legal  interest  where  you  go, 
and  the  inconvenience  of  going  will  cost  something  too. 
If  you  add  your  expenses  as  liberally  as  you  incur  them 
when  you  go  to  Baltimore,  to  legal  interest,  you  are  al 
ways  paying  a  good  shave." 

"  Where  you  have  risks,"  suggested  the  Judge,  "  there 
is  some  reason  for  a  heavy  discount,  but  my  property  will 
enrich  this  county  and  all  the  land  you  hold  mortgages 
on." 

"  Bog  ore  !"  muttered  the  money-lender.  "  I  never  lent 
.money  on  that  kind  of  risk.  I  must  read  upon  it !  They 
say  manufacturing  requires  mechanical  talent.  How 
much  do  you  want  ?" 

"Three  thousand." 

"  Secured  upon  the  furnace  ?" 

"  Yes." 

Meshach  computed  on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  the  Judge, 
with  easy  curiosity,  studied  his  singular  face  and  figure. 

He  was  rather  short  and  chunky,  not  weighing  more 
than  one  hundred  and  thirty  pounds,  with  long,  fine  fingers 
of  such  tracery  and  separate  action  that  every  finger 
seemed  to  have  a  mind  and  function  of  its  own.  Look 
ing  at  his  hands  only,  one  would  have  said:  "There  is 
here  a  pianist,  a  penman,  a  woman  of  definite  skill,  or  a 
man  of  peculiar  delicacy."  All  the  fingers  were  well  pro 
duced,  as  if  the  hand  instead  of  the  face  was  meant  to  be 
the  mind's  exponent  and  reveal  its  portrait  there. 

Yet  the  face  of  Meshach  Milburn,  if  more  repellent, 
was  uncommon. 

The  effects  of  one  long  diet  and  one  climate,  invariable, 
from  generation  to  generation,  and  both  low  and  unin- 
vigorating,  had  brought  to  nearly  aboriginal  form  and 


10  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

lines  his  cheek-bones,  hair,  and  resinous  brown  eyes. 
From  the  cheek-bones  up  he  looked  like  an  Indian,  and 
expressed  a  stolid  power  and  svvarthiness.  Below,  there 
dropped  a  large  face,  in  proportion,  with  nothing  notice 
able  about  it  except  the  nose,  which  was  so  straight, 
prominent,  and  complete,  and  its  nostrils  so  sensitive,  that 
only  the  nose  upon  his  face  seemed  to  be  good  company 
for  his  hands.  When  he  confronted  one,  with  his  head 
thrown  back  a  little,  his  brown  eyes  staring  inquiry,  and 
his  nose  almost  sentient,  the  effect  was  that  of  a  hostile 
savage  just  burst  from  the  woods. 

That  was  his  condition  indeed. 

"  Look  at  him  in  the  eyes,"  said  the  town-bred, "  he's 
all  forester !" 

"  But  look  at  his  hand,"  added  some  few  observant 
ones. 

Ah  !  who  had  ever  shaken  that  hand  ? 

It  was  now  extended  to  the  Judge  and  he  took  from 
its  womanly  fingers  the  terms  of  the  loan.  Judge  Custis 
was  surprised  at  the  moderation  of  Meshach,  and  he 
looked  up  cheerfully  into  that  ever  sentinel  face  on  which 
might  have  been  printed  "quivive?" 

"It's  not  the  goodness  of  the  security,"  said  Meshach, 
"  I  make  it  low  to  you,  socially  1" 

The  Custis  pride  started  with  a  flush  to  the  Judge's 
eyes,  to  have  this  ostracised  and  hooted  Shylock  inti 
mate  that  their  relations  could  be  more  than  a  prince's 
to  a  pawnbroker.  But  the  Judge  was  a  politician,  with 
an  adaptable  mind  and  address. 

"  Speaking  of  social  things,  Milburn,"  he  said,  care 
lessly,  "  our  town  is  not  so  large  that  we  don't  all  see 
each  other  sometimes.  Why  do  you  wear  that  forlorn, 
unsightly  hat  ?" 

"  Why  do  you  wear  the  name  Custis?" 

"  Oh,  I  inherited  that !" 

"  And  I  inherited  my  hat." 


JUDGE   AND    DAUGHTER.  II 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  minute,  but  before  the  Judge 
could  tell  whether  it  was  an  angry  or  an  awkward  pause, 
the  storekeeper  said  : 

"Judge  Custis,  I  concede  that  you  are  the  best  bred 
man  in  Princess  Anne.  Where  did  you  get  authority  to 
question  another  person  about  any  decent  article  of  his 
attire  ?" 

"  I  stand  corrected,  Milburn,"  said  the  Judge.  "  Good 
feeling  for  you  more  than  curiosity  made  me  suggest  it. 
And  I  may  also  remark  to  you,  sir,  that  when  you  lend 
me  money  you  will  always  do  it  commercially  and  not 
socially." 

"Very  well,"  remarked  Meshach  Milburn,  "and  if  I 
ever  enter  your  door,  I  will  then  take  off  my  hat." 

*  *  ^  *  #  =£ 

The  next  morning  Meshach  Milburn  surprised  Samson 
Hat  by  saying :  "  Boy,  when  you  have  another  fight  and 
make  yourself  a  barbarian  again,  remember  to  bring 
back,  from  Nassawongo  furnace,  about  a  peck  of  the  bog 

ores !" 

#  *  *  *  *  * 

The  years  moved  on  without  much  change  in  Princess 
Anne.  The  little  Manokin  river  brought  up  oysters  from 
the  bay,  and  carried  off  the  corn  and  produce.  The  great 
brick  academy  at  neighboring  "  Lower  Trappe  "  boarded 
and  educated  the  brightest  youths  of  the  best  families  on 
the  Peninsula ;  and  these  perceived,  as  the  annual  sum 
mers  brought  their  fulness,  what  portion  of  their  beauty 
remained  with  Vesta  Custis.  She  was  like  Helen  of 
Troy,  a  subject  of  homage  and  dispute  in  childhood,  and 
became  a  woman,  in  men's  consideration,  almost  imper 
ceptibly.  Sent  to  Baltimore  to  be  educated,  her  return 
was  followed  by  suitors — not  youthful  admirers  only,  but 
mature  ones — and  the  young  men  of  the  Peninsula  re 
marked  with  chagrin  :  "  None  of  us  have  a  chance  ! 
Some  great  city  nabob  will  get  her." 


12  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

But  the  academy  boys  and  visitors,  and  the  towns 
people,  had  one  common  opportunity  to  see  her  and  to 
hear  her — when  she  sang,  every  Sabbath  and  church 
day,  in  the  Episcopal  church. 

Her  voice  was  the  natural  expression  of  her  beauty — 
sweet,  powerful,  free,  and  easily  trained.  A  divine  bird 
seemed  hidden  in  the  old  church  when  this  noble  yet 
tender  voice  broke  forth ;  but  they  who  turned  to  see 
the  singer  who  had  made  such  Paradise,  looked  almost 
on  Eve  herself. 

She  was  rather  slight,  tall,  and  growing  fuller  slowly 
every  year,  like  one  in  whom  growth  was  early,  yet  long, 
and  who  would  wholly  mature  not  until  near  middle  life. 
Her  head,  however,  was  perfection,  even  in  girlhood,  not 
less  by  its  proportions  than  its  carriage  :  her  graceful 
figure  bore  it  like  the  slender  setting,  holding  up  the 
first  splendor  of  the  peach  ;  a  head  of  vital  and  spiritual 
beauty,  where  purity  and  luxuriance,  woman  and  mind, 
dwelt  in  harmony  and  joy.  As  she  seemed  ever  to  be 
ripening,  so  she  seemed  never  to  have  been  «.  child,  but, 
with  faculties  and  sense  clear  and  unintimidated,  she  was 
never  wanting  in  modesty,  nor  accused  of  want  of  self- 
possession.  Judge  Custis  made  her  his  reliance  and 
pride ;  she  never  reproved  his  errors,  nor  treated  them 
familiarly,  but  settled  the  household  by  a  consent  which 
all  paid  to  her  character  alone.  More  than  once  she 
had  appeared  at  the  furnace  mansion  when  the  Judge's 
long  absence  had  awakened  some  jealousy  or  distrust : 

"  P'ather,  please  go  home  with  me  !  I  want  you  to  drive 
me  back.'7 

The  easy,  self-indulgent  Judge  would  look  a  slight  pro 
test,  but  at  the  soft,  spirited  command  ;  "  Come,  sir !  you 
can't  stay  here  any  more,"  dismissed  his  companions,  and 
took  his  place  at  the  head  of  Princess  Anne  society. 

Vesta  was  almost  a  brunette,  with  the  rich  colors  of  her 
type — eyebrows  like  the  raven's  wing,  ripe,  red  lips,  and 


JUDGE   AND   DAUGHTER.  13 

hair  whose  darkness  and  length,  released  from  the  crown 
into  which  she  wound  it,  might  have  spun  her  garments. 
Her  eyes  were  of  a  steel-blue,  in  which  the  lights  had  the 
effect  of  black.  She  was  dark  with  sky  breaking  through, 
like  the  rich  dusk  and  twilights  over  the  Chesapeake. 

People  wondered  that,  with  such  beauty,  ease,  and  ac 
complishments  she  was  not  proud ;  but  her  pride  was 
too  ethereal  to  be  seen.  It  was  not  the  vain  conscious 
ness  of  gifts  and  endowments,  but  the  serene  sense  of 
worthiness,  of  unimpaired  health,  honor,  and  descent, 
which  made  her  kind  and  thoughtful  to  a  degree  only 
less  than  piety.  Grateful  for  her  social  rank  and  parent 
age,  she  adorned  but  did  not  forget  them.  The  suitors 
who  came  for  her  were  weighed  in  this  scale  of  perfect 
desert — to  be  sons  of  such  parents  and  associates  of  her 
married  sisters  and  sisters-in-law.  Not  one  had  survived 
the  test,  yet  none  knew  where  he  failed. 

"  Vesta  is  too  good  for  any  of  them,"  exclaimed  the 
Judge,  on  more  than  one  occasion.  "  When  I  get  the 
furnace  in  such  shape  that  it  will  run  itself  I  will  take 
my  daughter  to  Europe  and  give  her  a  musical  education." 

In  truth,  the  Judge  had  expectations  of  his  daughter ; 
for  the  reputation  he  had  attained  as  a  manufacturer  was 
not  without  its  drawbacks.  He  maintained  two  estab 
lishments  ;  he  supported  a  large  body  of  laborers  and  de 
pendents,  some  of  whom  he  had  brought  from  distant 
places  under  contract ;  the  experiment  in  which  he  had 
embarked  was  still  an  experiment,  and  he  was  subject  to 
the  knowledge  and  judgment  of  his  manager,  being  him 
self  rather  the  patron  than  the  manufacturer  at  the  works. 
Many  days,  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  testing  the  per 
centage  and  mixture  of  his  ores,  he  was  gunning  off  on 
the  ocean  bars,  crabbing  on  Whollop's  Beach,  or  hunting 
up  questionable  company  among  the  forest  girls,  or  around 
the  oystermen's  or  wrecker's  cabins.  He  had  plenty  of 
property  and  family  endorsers,  however,  and  seldom  failed 


14  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

to  have  a  satisfactory  interview  with  Meshach  Milburn, 
who  was  now  assisting  him,  at  least  once  a  quarter,  to 
keep  both  principal  and  interest  at  home. 

The  Judge  had  grown  thicker  with  Meshach,  but  the 
storekeeper  merely  listened  and  assented,  and  took  no 
pains  to  incur  another  criticism  on  his  motives.  Meshach 
wore  his  great  hat,  as  ever,  to  church  and  on  festive  clays, 
and  it  was  still  derided,  and  held  to  be  the  town  wonder. 
Vesta  Custis  often  saw  the  odd  little  man  come  into 
church  while  she  was  singing,  and  she  fancied  that  his 
large,  coarse  ears  were  turned  to  receive  the  music  she 
was  making,  and  she  faintly  remembered  that  once  she 
had  held  in  her  hands  that  wonderful  hat  with  its  cop 
per  buckle  in  the  band,  and  stiff,  wide  brim,  flowing  in  a 
wave.  More  than  that  she  knew  nothing,  except  that 
the  wearer  was  an  humble-born, grasping  creature — a  for 
ester  without  social  propensities,  or,  indeed,  any  human 
attachments.  The  negro  who  abode  under  his  roof  was 
beloved,  compared  to  the  sordid  master,  and  all  testimony 
concurred  that  Meshach  Milburn  deserved  neither  com 
miseration,  friendship,  nor  recognition.  Her  father,  how 
ever,  indulgent  in  all  things,  said  the  money-lender  had  a 
good  mind,  and  was  no  serf. 

Milburn  had  ceased  to  deal  with  negroes  or  dispense 
drams.  His  wealth  was  now  known  to  be  more  than 
considerable.  He  had  ceased,  also,  to  lend  money  on 
the  surrounding  farms,  and  rumors  came  across  the  bay 
that  he  was  a  holder  of  stocks  .and  mortgages  on  the 
Western  Shore,  and  in  Baltimore  and  Pennsylvania.  The 
little  town  of  Princess  Anne  was  full  of  speculations  about 
him,  and  even  his  age  was  uncertain ;  Jack  Wonnell  had 
measured  it  by  hats.  Said  Jack: 

"  I  bought  my  bell-crowns  the  year  ole  Milburn's  daddy 
and  mammy  died.  They  died  of  the  bilious  out  yer  in 
Nassawongo,  within  a  few  days  of  each  other.  Now,  I 
wear  two  bell-crowns  a  year.  I  come  out  every  Fourth 


THE    FORESTERS.  1 5 

of  July  and  Christmas.  'Tother  clay  I  counted  what  was 
left,  and  I  reckoned  that  Meshach  couldn't  be  forty-five 
at  the  wust." 

Vesta  Custis  was  only  twenty  years  old  when  the 
townsfolk  thought  she  must  be  twenty-five,  so  long  had 
she  been  the  beauty  of  Somerset.  Her  mother  had  al 
ways  looked  with  apprehension  on  the  possible  time 
when  her  daughter  would  marry  and  leave  her;  for  Judge 
Custis  had  long  ceased  to  have  the  full  confidence  of  his 
lady,  whose  fortune  he  had  embarked  without  return  on 
ventures  still  in  doubt,  and  he  always  waived  the  sub 
ject  when  it  was  broached,  or  remarked  that  no  loss 
was  possible  in  his  hands  while  Mrs.  Custis  lived. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE     FORESTERS. 

ONE  Saturday  afternoon  in  October  Meshach  Milburn 
drew  out  his  razor,  cup,  and  hone,  and  prepared  to  shave, 
albeit  his  beard  was  never  more  than  harmless  down. 
By  a  sort  of  capillary  attraction  Samson  Hat  divined  his 
purpose,  and,  opening  the  big  green  chest,  brought  out 
the  mysterious  hat. 

"  Put  it  down !"  commanded  the  money-lender.  "  Go 
out  and  hire  me  a  carriage  with  two  horses — two  horses, 
do  you  mind !" 

Samson  dropped  the  hat  in  wonderment. 

"  Make  yourself  decent,"  added  Meshach  ;  "  I  want 
you  to  drive.  Go  with  me,  and  keep  with  me  :  do  you 
understand?" 

"  Yes,  marster." 

When  the  negro  departed,  Meshach  himself  took  up 
the  tall,  green,  buckled  hat,  with  the  stiff,  broad,  piratical 
brim.  He  looked  it  over  long  and  hard. 


1 6  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  Vanity,  vanity  !"  he  murmured,  "  vanity  and  habit !  I 
dare  not  disown  thee  now,  because  they  give  thee  ridicule, 
and  without  thee  they  would  give  me  nothing  but  hate  !" 

The  people  around  the  tavern  and  court-house  saw, 
with  surprise  too  great  for  jeering,  the  note-shaver  go 
past  in  a  carriage,  driven  by  his  negro,  and  with  two 
horses !  Jack  Wonnell  took  off  his  shining  beaver  to 
cheer.  As  the  phenomenal  team  receded,  the  old  cry 
ran,  however,  down  the  stilly  street :  "  Steeple-top  !  He's 
got  it  on  !  Meshach's  loose  !" 

The  carriage  proceeded  out  the  forest  road,  and  soon 
entered  upon  the  sandy,  pine-slashed  region  called  Hard- 
scrabble,  or  Hardship. 

Here  the  roads  were  sandy  as  the  hummocks  and  hills 
in  the  rear  of  a  sea  beach,  and  the  low,  lean  pines  cov 
ered  the  swells  and  ridges,  while  in  occasional  level 
basins,  where  the  stiff  clay  was  exposed,  some  forester's 
unpainted  hut  sat  black  and  smoking  on  the  slope,  with 
out  a  window-pane,  an  ornament,  or  anything  to  relieve 
life  from  its  monotony  and  isolation. 

But  where  the  rills  ran  off  to  the  continuous  swamps 
the  leafage  started  up  in  splendrous  versatility.  The 
maple  stood  revealed  in  all  its  fair,  light  harmonies.  The 
magnolia  drooped  its  ivory  tassels,  and  scented  the  forest 
with  perfume.  The  kalmia  and  the  alder  gave  under 
growth  and  brilliancy  to  the  foliage.  Hoary  and  green 
with  precipitate  old  age,  the  cypress-trees  stood  in  moist 
ure,  and  drooped  their  venerable  beards  from  angular 
branches,  the  bald  cypress  overhanging  its  evergreen 
kinsman,  and  looking  down  upon  the  swamp-woods  in 
autumn,  like  some  hermit  artist  on  the  rich  pigments  on 
his  palette. 

But  nothing  looked  so  noble  as  the  sweet  gum,  which 
rose  like  a  giant  plume  of  yellow  and  orange,  a  chief  in 
joyous  finery,  where  the  cypress  was  only  a  faded  phi 
losopher. 


THE    FORESTERS.  IJ 

Beside  such  a  tall  gum-tree  Samson  Hat  reined  in, 
where  a  well-spring  shone  at  the  bottom  of  a  hollow 
cypress.  He  borrowed  a  bucket  from  the  hut  across  the 
road,  and  watered  the  horses. 

"  Marster,"  ventured  the  negro,  "  dey  say  your  gran'- 
daddy  sot  dis  spring." 

"  Yes,"  said  Milburn,  "  and  built  the  cabin.  Yonder 
he  lies,  on  the  knoll  by  that  stump,  up  in  the  field  :  he 
and  more  of  our  wasted  race." 

"And  yon  woman  is  a  Milburn,"  added  the  negro,  so 
cially.  "  I  know  her  by  de  hands." 

The  barefoot  woman  living  in  the  cabin — one  room 
and  a  loft,  and  the  floor  but  a  few  inches  above  the 
ground — cried  out,  impudently  : 

"  If  I  could  have  two  horses  I'd  buy  a  better  hat !" 

Milburn  did  not  answer,  but  marked  the  poor,  small 
corn  ears  ungathered  on  the  fodderless  stalks,  the  shrubs 
of  peach-trees,  of  which  the  largest  grew  on  his  ances 
tors'  graves,  the  little  cart  for  one  horse  or  ox,  which  was 
at  once  family  carriage  and  farm  wagon,  and  the  few 
pigs  and  chickens  of  stunted  breeds  around  the  woman's 
feet. 

"  Drive  on,  boy,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  the  worst  of  all  is 
that  these  people  are  happy  !" 

"  Dat's  a  fack,  marster,"  laughed  Samson  Hat.  "  Dey 
wouldn't  speak  to  you  in  Princess  Anne.  Dey  think  ev 
erybody's  proud  and  rich  dar." 

"  Here  the  sea  once  dashed  its  billows  on  a  bar," 
said  Meshach  Milburn,  reflectively.  "  That  geology  book 
relates  it !  From  the  North  the  hummocks  recede  in 
waves,  where  successive  beaches  were  formed  as  the  sea 
slowly  retreated.  Hardly  deeper  than  a  human  grave 
they  strike  water,  below  the  sand  and  gravel.  Below  the 
water  they  drink  is  nothing  but  black  mud,  made  of 
cgarse,  decayed  grass.  No  lime  is  in  the  soil.  Not  a 
mineral  exists  in  all  this  low,  wave-made  peninsula,  where 


1 8  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

my  people  were  shipwrecked — except  the  wonderful  bog 
ores." 

The  negro's  genial,  wondering  nature  broke  out  with 
comfortable  assurance. 

"  Dat  must  be  in  de  Bible,"  he  said.  "  Marster,  de 
Milburns  been  heah  so  long,  dey  must  hab  got  ship 
wrecked  wid  ole  Noah !" 

"  All  families  are  shipwrecked,"  absently  replied  Me- 
shach,  "  who  cast  their  lot  upon  an  unrewarding  land, 
and  growing  poorer,  darker,  down,  from  generation  to 
generation,  can  never  leave  it,  and,  at  last,  can  never  de 
sire  to  go." 

"  Marster,  dar  is  one  got  to  go  some  ob  dese  days.  It's 
me — pore  ole  Samson  !" 

"  Ha !  has  some  one  set  you  on  to  demand  your 
wages  ?" 

"  No,  marster,  I  am  old.  It's  you  dat  I'm  troubled 
about !  Dar's  none  to  mend  for  you,  cook  for  you,  cure 
yo'  sickness,  or  lay  you  in  de  grave." 

No  more  was  said  until  they  passed  the  settled  part 
of  the  forest  and  entered  one  of  the  many  straight  aisles 
of  sky  and  sand  among  the  pines,  which  had  been  opened 
on  the  great  furnace  tract  of  Judge  Custis.  He  had 
here  several  thousand  acres,  and  for  miles  the  roadways 
were  cleft  towards  the  horizon.  The  moon  rose  behind 
them  as  they  entered  the  furnace  village,  and  they  saw 
the  lights  twinkle  through  the  open  doors  of  many  cot 
tages  and  the  furnace  flames  dart  over  the  forbidding 
mill-pond,  where  in  the  depths  grew  the  iron  ore,  like  a 
vegetable  creation,  and  above  the  surface,  on  splayed  and 
conical  mud-washed  roots,  the  hundreds  of  strong  cy 
presses  towered  from  the  water.  Between  the  steep 
banks  of  dark-colored  pines,  taller  than  the  forest  growth, 
this  furnace  lake  lay  black  and  white  and  burning  red  as 
the  shadows,  or  moonrise,  or  flames  struck  upon  it,  and 
the  stained  water  foamed  through  the  breast  or  dam 


DISCOVERY    OF    THE    HEIRLOOM.  19 

where  the  ancient  road  crossed  between  pines,  cypresses 
and  gum-trees  of  commanding  stature. 

Tawny,  slimy,  chilly,  and  solemn,  the  pond  repeated  the 
forms  of  the  groves  it  submerged ;  the  shaggy  shadows 
added  depth  and  dread  to  the  effect ;  some  strange  birds 
hooted  as  they  dipped  their  wings  in  the  surface,  and,  fly 
ing  upward,  seemed  also  sinking  down.  As  Meshach 
felt  the  chill  of  that  pond  he  drew  down  his  hat  and 
buttoned  up  his  coat. 

"  The  earliest  fools  who  turned  up  the  bog  ores  for 
wealth,"  he  said,  "released  the  miasmas  which  slew  all 
the  people  roundabout.  They  killed  all  my  family,  but 
set  me  free." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DISCOVERY   OF   THE    HEIRLOOM. 

JUDGE  CUSTIS  was  in  his  bedroom,  in  the  second 
story  of  the  large,  inn-like  mansion  at  the  middle  of  the 
village,  and  he  was  just  recovering  from  the  effects  of  a 
long  wassail.  In  his  peculiar  nervous  condition  he 
started  at  the  sound  of  wheels,  and,  drawing  his  curtains, 
looked  out  upon  the  long  shadow  of  an  advancing  figure 
crowned  with  a  steeple  hat. 

This  human  shadow  strengthened  and  faded  in  the 
alternating  light,  until  it  was  defined  against  his  store 
house,  his  warehouse,  his  cabins,  and  the  plain,  and  it 
seemed  also  against  the  wall  of  dense  forest  pines. 
Then  footsteps  ascended  the  stairs.  His  door  opened 
and  Meshach  Milburn,  with  his  holiday  hat  on  his  head, 
stood  on  the  threshold ;  his  eyes  vigilant  and  bold  as 
ever,  and  all  his  Indian  nature  to  the  front. 

"  My  God,  Milburn  !"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  "  odd  as  it 
is  to  see  you  here,  I  am  relieved.  Old  Nick,  I  thought, 
was  coming." 


20  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Shall  I  come  in?"  asked  Milburn. 

"Yes  ;  I'm  sleeping  off  a  little  care  and  business.  Let 
your  man  stay  outside  on  the  porch.  Draw  up  a  chair. 
It's  money,  I  suppose,  that  brings  you  here  ?" 

The  money-lender  carefully  put  his  formidable  hat 
upon  a  table,  took  a  distant  chair,  pushed  his  gaitered 
feet  out  in  front,  and  laid  a  large  wallet  or  pocket-book 
on  his  lap.  Then,  addressing  his  whole  attention  to  the 
host,  he  appeared  never  to  wink  while  he  remained. 

"  Judge  Custis,"  he  said,  straightforwardly,  "  the  first 
time  you  came  to  borrow  money  from  me,  you  said  that 
Nassawongo  furnace  would  enrich  this  county  and  raise 
the  value  of  my  land." 

"  Yes,  Milburn.  It  was  a  slow  enterprise,  but  it's  com 
ing  all  right.  I  shipped  a  thousand  tons  last  year." 

"  Judge  Custis,"  continued  the  money-lender,  "  I  told 
you,  when  you  made  the  first  loan,  that  I  would  investi 
gate  this  ore.  I  did  so  years  ago.  Specimens  were 
sent  by  me  to  Baltimore  and  tested  there.  Not  content 
with  that,  I  have  studied  the  manufacture  of  iron  for  my 
self — the  society  of  Princess  Anne  not  grudging  me 
plenty  of  solitude! — and  I  know  that  every  ton  of  iron 
you  make  costs  more  than  you  get  for  it.  The  bog  ore 
is  easy  to  smelt;  but  it  is  corrupted  by  phosphate  of  iron 
and  is  barely  marketable." 

The  Judge  was  sitting  with  eyes  wide  open,  and  paler 
than  before. 

"You  have  found  that  out?"  he  whispered.  "I  did 
not  know  it  myself  until  within  this  year — so  help  me 
God  !" 

"  I  knew  it  before  I  made  you  the  second  loan." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?" 

"  Because  you  forbade  our  relations  to  be  anything  but 
commercial.  I  was  not  bound  to  betray  my  knowledge." 

"  Why  did  you,  then,  from  a  commercial  view,  lend  me 
large  sums  of  money  again  and  again  ?" 


DISCOVERY    OF    THE    HEIRLOOM.  21 

"  Because,"  said  the  money-lender,  coolly,  "  you  had 
other  security.  You  have  a  daughter  !" 

Judge  Custis  broke  from  the  bed-covers  and  rushed 
upon  Meshach  Milburn. 

"Heathen  and  devil!''  he  shouted,  taking  the  money 
lender  by  the  throat,  "do  you  dare  to  mention  her  as 
part  of  your  mortgage  ?" 

They  struggled  together  until  a  powerful  pair  of  hands 
pinioned  the  Judge,  and  bore  him  back  to  his  bed.  Sam 
son  Hat  was  the  man. 

"Judge!"  he  exclaimed,  gentle,  but  firm,  "you  is  a 
good  man,  but  not  as  good  as  me.  Cool  off,  Judge  !" 

"  I  expected  this  scene,"  said  Meshach  Milburn.  "  It 
could  not  have  been  avoided.  I  was  bound  in  conscience 
and  in  common-sense  to  make  you  the  only  proposition 
which  could  save  you  from  ruin.  For,  Judge  Custis,  you 
are  a  ruined  man  !" 

Overcome  with  excitement  and  suspended  stimula 
tion,  the  old  Judge  fell  back  on  his  pillow  and  began  to 
sob. 

"Give  him  brandy,"  said  Meshach  Milburn,  "here  is 
the  bottle  !  He  heeds  it  now." 

The  wretched  gentleman  eagerly  drank  the  proffered 
draught  from  the  negro's  hands.  His  fury  did  not  re 
vive,  and  he  covered  his  face  with  his  palms  and  moaned 
piteously. 

"Judge  Custis,"  remarked  Meshach  Milburn,  "if  the 
apparent  social  distance  between  us  could  be  lessened 
by  any  argument,  I  might  make  one.  For  the  difference 
is  in  appearance  only.  The  healthy  flesh  which  gives 
you  and  yours  stature  and  beauty  is  a  matter  of  food 
alone.  My  stock  has  survived  five  generations  of  such 
diet  as  has  bent  the  spines  of  the  forest  pigs  and  stunted 
the  oxen.  Money  and  family  joy  will  give  me  children 
comely  again.  My  life  has  been  hard  but  pure." 

The  old  Judge  felt  the  last  unconscious  reflection. 


22  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Yes,"  he  uttered,  solemnly,  "no  doubt  Heaven 
marked  me  for  some  such  degradation  as  this,  when  I 
yielded  to  low  propensities,  and  sought  my  pleasure  and 
companions  in  the  huts  of  the  forest !" 

"You  claim  descent  from  the  Stuart  Restoration:  I 
know  the  tale.  A  creditor  of  the  two  exiled  royal  broth 
ers  for  sundry  tavern  loans  and  tipples  drew  for  his  obli 
gation  an  office  in  far-off  Virginia.  Seizures,  confisca 
tions,  the  slave-trade,  marriages — in  short,  the  long  game 
of  advantage — built  up  the  fortunes  of  the  Custises,  un 
til  they  expired  in  a  certain  Judge,  whose  notes  of  hand 
a  hard  man,  forest-born,  held  over  the  Judge's  head  on 
what  seemed  hard  conditions,  but  conditions  in  which 
was  every  quality  of  mercy,  except  consideration  for  your 
pride." 

The  Judge  made  a  laugh  like  a  howl. 

" Mercy?"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  do  not  know  what  it  is  ! 
To  ensnare  my  innocent  daughter  in  the  damned  meshes 
of  your  principal  and  interest !  Call  it  malignity — the 
visitation  of  your  unsocial  wrath  on  man  and  an  angel ; 
but  not  mercy !" 

"  Then  we  will  call  it  compensation,"  continued  Me- 
shach  Milburn  :  "for  twenty  years  I  have  denied  myself 
everything;  you  denied  yourself  nothing.  Your  sub 
stance  is  wasted ;  renew  it  from  the  abundance  of  my 
thrift.  It  was  not  with  an  evil  design  that  I  made  my 
self  your  creditor,  although,  as  the  years  have  rolled  on 
ward  and  solitude  chilled  my  heart,  that  has  always  pined 
for  human  friendship,  I  could  not  but  see  the  kindling 
glory  of  your  daughter's  beauty.  Like  the  schoolboys, 
the  married  husbands — yes,  like  the  slaves — I  had  to  ad 
mire  her.  Then,  unknowing  how  deeply  you  were  in 
volved,  I  found  offered  to  me  for  sale  the  paper  you  had 
negotiated  in  Baltimore  —  paper,  Judge  Custis,  dishon* 
orably  negotiated !" 

The  money-lender  rose  and  walked  to  the  sad  man's 


DISCOVERY   OF   THE   HEIRLOOM.  23 

bed,  and  held  the  hand,  full  of  these  notes,  boldly  over 
him. 

"  It  was  despair,  Milburn  !"  moaned  the  Judge. 

"  And  so  was  my  resolution.  Said  I  :  '  This  lofty  gen 
tleman  would  cheat  me,  his  neighbor,  who  have  suffered 
all  the  contumely  of  this  good  society,  and  on  starveling 
opportunity  have  slowly  recovered  independence.  Now 
he  shall  take  my  place  in  the  forest,  or  I  will  wear  my  hat 
at  the  head  of  his  family  table.'  " 

"A  dreadful  revenge!"  whispered  Custis,  with  a  shud 
der.  "  Such  a  hat  is  worse  than  a  cloven  foot.  In 
God's  name  !  whence  came  that  ominous  hat  ?" 

Milburn  took  up  the  hat  and  held  it  before  the  lamp 
light,  so  that  its  shadow  stood  gigantic  against  the  wall. 

"Who  would  think,"  he  said,  sarcastically,  "that  a 
mere  head-covering,  elegant  in  its  day,  could  make  more 
hostility  than  an  idle  head?  I  will  tell  you  the  silly 
secret  of  it.  When  I  came  from  the  obscurity  of  the 
forest,  sensitive,  and  anxious  to  make  my  way,  and  slowly 
gathered  capital  and  knowledge,  a  person  in  New  York 
directed  a  letter  of  inquiry  to  me.  It  told  how  a  certain 
Milburn,  a  Puritan  or  English  Commonwealth  man,  had 
risen  to  great  distinction  in  that  province,  and  had  revo 
lutionized  its  government  and  suffered  the  penalty  of  high- 
treason." 

"  True  enough,"  said  Judge  Custis,  pouring  a  second 
glass  of  brandy ;  "  Milburn  and  Leisler  were  executed 
in  New  York  during  the  lifetime  of  the  first  Custis.  They 
anticipated  the  expulsion  of  James  II.,  and  were  entrapped 
by  their  provincial  enemies  and  made  political  martyrs." 

"The  inquirer,"  said  Meshach,  "who  had  obtained  my 
address  in  the  course  of  business,  related,  that  after  Mil- 
burn's  death  his  brethren  and  their  families  had  sailed 
to  the  Chesapeake,  where  the  Protestants  had  success 
fully  revolutionized  for  King  William,  and,  making  choice 
of  poor  lands,  they  had  become  obscure.  He  asked  me 


24  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

if  the  court  -  house  records  made  any  registry  of  their 
wills." 

"  Of  course  you  found  them  ?" 

"Yes.  It  was  a  revelation  to  me,  and  gave  me  the 
honorable  sense  of  some  origin  and  quality.  I  traced  my 
self  back  to  the  earliest  folios,  at  the  close  of  the  seven 
teenth  century." 

"  Any  property,  Milburn  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  voluptuous 
and  reanimated  again. 

"  My  great-grandfather  had  left  his  son  nothing  but  a 
Hat." 

"Not  uncommon!"  exclaimed  Judge  Custis.  "Our 
early  wills  contain  little  but  legacies  of  wearing  apparel, 
household  articles,  bedding,  pots  and  kettles,  and  the  ele 
ments  of  civilization." 

"The  will  on  record  said  :  1 1  give  to  my  eldest  son,  Me 
sh ach  Milburn,  my  best  Hat,  and  no  more  of  my  estate?  " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !"  laughed  the  Judge,  loudly.  "  Genteel  to 
the  last !  A  hat  of  fashion,  no  doubt,  made  in  London; 
quite  too  ceremonious  and  topgallant  for  these  colonies. 
He  left  it  to  his  eldest  son,  vn.-tiled  it,  we  may  say.  Ho  ! 
ho !" 

"When  my  indignation  was  over,  I  took  the  same  view 
you  do,  Judge  Custis,  that  it  was  a  bequest  of  dignity, 
not  of  burlesque;  and  I  made  some  inquiries  for  that 
best  Hat.  It  was  a  legend  among  my  forest  kin,  had 
been  seen  by  very  old  people,  was  celebrated  in  its 
day,  and  worn  by  my  grandfather  thankfully.  He  left  it 
to  my  father,  still  a  hat  of  reputation — " 

"Still  z\\-tiled  to  the  oldest  son!     Ha,  ha !  Milburn." 

"  My  father  sold  the  hat  to  Charles  Wilson  Peale,  who 
was  native  to  our  peninsula,  and  knew  the  ancient  things 
existing  here  that  would  help  him  to  form  Peale's  Muse 
um  during  the  last  century.  I  found  the  hat  in  that  mu 
seum,  covering  the  mock-figure  of  Guy  Fawkes  !" 

"Conspirator's  hat;  bravo!"  exclaimed  the  Judge. 


THE   BOG-ORE   TRACT.  25 

"  It  had  been  used  for  the  heads  of  George  Calvert  and 
Shakespeare,  but  in  time  of  religious  excitements  was  pro 
claimed  to  be  the  true  hat  of  Guy  Fawkes.  I  reclaimed 
it,  and  brought  it  to  Princess  Anne,  and  in  a  vain  mo 
ment  put  it  on  my  head  and  walked  into  the  street.  It 
was  assailed  with  halloos  and  ribaldry." 

"It  was  another  Shirt  of  Nessus,  Milburn  ;  it  poisoned 
your  life,  eh  ?'•' 

"Perhaps  so,"  replied  Milburn,  with  intensity.  "  They 
say  what  is  one  man's  drink  is  another  man's  poison. 
You  will  accept  that  hat  on  the  head  of  your  son-in-law, 
or  no  more  drink  out  of  the  Custis  property !" 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    BOG-ORE    TRACT. 

RESOLUTION  of  character  and  executive  power  had 
been  trifled  away  by  Judge  Custis.  The  trader  had  con 
cluded  their  interview  with  a  decision  and  fierceness  that 
left  paralysis  upon  the  gentleman's  mind.  He  saw,  in  sad 
fancy,  the  execution  served  upon  his  furniture,  the  amaze 
ment  of  his  wife,  the  pallor  of  his  daughter,  the  indigna 
tion  of  his  sons.  He  also  shrank  before  the  impending 
failure  of  his  furnace  and  abandonment  of  the  bog-ore 
tract,  on  which  he  had  raised  so  much  state  and  local 
fame ;  people  would  say :  "  Custis  was  a  fool,  and  de 
ceived  himself,  while  old  Steepletop  Milburn  played  upon 
the  Custises'  vanity,  and  turned  them  into  the  street." 

"  No  doubt,"  thought  the  Judge,  "  that  fellow,  Milburn, 
can  get  anything  when  he  gets  my  house.  The  poor  folks' 
vote  he  may  command,  because  he  is  of  their  class.  He 
is  a  lender  to  many  of  the  rich.  Who  could  have  sus 
pected  his  intelligence?  His  address,  too?  He  handled 
me  as  if  I  were  a  forester  and  he  a  judge.  A  very,  very 


26  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

remarkable  man  !"  finished  Judge  Custis,  taking  the  last 
of  the  brandy. 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Samson  Hat. 

"  Where's  your  master,  boy  ?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"  He's  gone  up  to  de  ole  house.  Judge,  where  his  daddy 
and  mammy  died.  It's  de  place  where  I  hides  after  my 
fights." 

"  May  the  ague  strike  him  there  !  Let  the  bilious 
sweat  from  the  mill-pond  be  strong  to-night,  that,  like 
Judas  of  old,  his  bowels  may  drop  out !  But,  no,"  con 
tinued  the  irresolute  man,  "  I  have  no  right  to  hate 
him." 

"Judge,"  softly  said  the  old  negro, "  my  marster  is  a  sick 
man.  He  ain't  happy  like  you  an'  me.  He's  'bitious. 
He's  lonely.  Dat's  enough  to  spile  angels.  But  a  gooder 
man  I  never  knowed,  'cept  in  de  onpious  sperrit.  He's 
proud  as  Lucifer.  He's  full  of  hate  at  Princess  Anne 
and  all  de  people.  Your  darter  may  git  a  better  man, 
not  a  pyorer  one." 

"  Purity  goes  a  very  little  way,"  exclaimed  the  Judge, 
"  on  the  male  side  of  marriage  contracts.  It's  always  as 
sumed,  and  never  expected.  You  need  not  remember, 
Samson,  that  I  expressed  any  anger  at  your  master !" 

"  My  whole  heart,  judge,  is  to  see  him  happy.  Hard 
as  he  is,  dat  man  has  power  to  make  him  loved.  Your 
darter  might  go  farder  and  fare  wuss !  I  wish  her  no 
harm,  God  knows !" 

The  negro  said  an  humble  good-night,  and  the  Judge 
lay  down  upon  his  bed  to  think  of  the  dread  alternatives 
of  the  coming  week ;  but,  voluptuous  even  in  despair,  he 
slept  before  he  had  come  to  any  conclusion. 

Samson  Hat  walked  up  the  side  of  the  mill-pond  on  a 
sandy  road,  divided  from  the  water  by  a  dense  growth  of 
pines.  The  bullfrogs  and  insects  serenaded  the  forest ; 
the  furnace  chimney  smoked  lurid  on  the  midnight.  At 
the  distance  of  half  a  mile  or  more  an  old  cabin,  in  decay, 


THE    BOG-ORE   TRACT.  2J 

stood  in  a  sandy  field  near  the  road ;  it  had  no  door  in 
the  hollow  doorway,  no  sash  in  the  one  gaping  window ; 
the  step  was  broken  leading  to  the  sill,  and  some  of  the 
weather-boarding  had  rotted  from  the  skeleton.  The  old 
end-chimney  bore  it  toughly  up,  however,  and  the  low 
brick  props  under  the  corners  stood  plumb.  Within  lay 
a  single  room  with  open  beams,  a  sort  of  cupboard  stair 
way  projecting  over  the  fireplace,  and  another  door  and 
window  were  in  the  rear.  Before  this  fireplace  sat  Me- 
shach  Milburn  on  an  old  chair,  fairly  revealed  by  the 
light  of  some  of  the  burning  weather-boarding  he  had 
thrown  upon  the  hearth.  On  the  hearth  was  a  little  heap 
of  the  bog  iron  ore  and  a  bottle. 

"  Come  in,  Samson  !"  he  called.  "  Don't  think  me 
turned  drunkard  because  I  am  taking  this  whiskey.  I 
drink  it  to  keep  out  the  malaria,  and  partly  as  a  com 
munion  cup  ;  for  to-night  the  barefooted  ghosts  who  have 
drooped  and  withered  here  are  with  me  in  spirit." 

"  Dey  was  all  good  Milburns  who  lived  heah,  marster," 
said  the  negro.  "Dey  had  hard  times,  but  did  no  sin. 
Dey  shook  wid  chills  and  fevers,  not  wid  conscience." 

"  I  shall  shake  with  neither,"  said  the  money-lender. 
"Go  up  into  the  loft,  and  sleep  till  you  are  called.  I 
want  the  horses  early  for  Princess  Anne  !" 

The  negro  obeyed  without  remark,  and  disappeared 
behind  the  cupboard-like  door.  Milburn  sat  before  the 
fire,  and  looked  into  it  long,  while  a  procession  of  thoughts 
and  phantoms  passed  before  it. 

He  saw  a  poor  family  of  independent  Puritans  setting 
sail  at  different  dates  from  English  seaports.  Some  were 
indentured  servants,  hoping  for  a  career ;  others  were 
avoiding  the  civil  wars  ;  others  were  small  political  male 
factors,  noisy  against  the  oppressions  of  their  hero,  Crom 
well,  and  conspirators  against  his  power  ;  and,  thrown  by 
him  in  English  jails,  were  only  delivered  to  be  sold  into 
slavery,  driven  through  the  streets  of  market-towns,  placed 


28  THE    ENTAILED  -HAT. 

on  troop-ships  between  the  decks,  among  the  horses-,  and 
set  up  at  auction  in  Barbadoes,  like  the  blacks ;  whence 
they  in  time  continued  onward  westward.  One,  the  fort 
unate  possessor  of  some  competence,  sailed  his  own  ship 
across  the  Atlantic,  and  delivered  up  to  Massachusetts 
her  governor  and  gentry.  Another,  incapable  of  being 
suppressed,  though  a  servant,  seized  the  destinies  of  an 
aristocratic  colony,  and  held  them  for  a  while,  until  accu 
mulating  enemies  bore  him  down,  and  wedlock  and  the 
gibbet  followed  close  together.  Poverty  would  not  relin 
quish  its  gripe  upon  the  race  ;  they  struggled  up  like  clods 
upon  the  ploughshare,  and  fell  back  again  into  the  furrow. 

As  Meshach  Milburn  thought  of  these  things  he  took 
up  a  portion  of  the  bog  ore  from  the  hearth. 

"  Here  is  iron,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  true  iron,  which 
makes  the  blood  red,  moulds  into  infinite  forms,  nails 
houses  together,  binds  wheels,  *nd  casts  into  cannon  and 
ball.  But  this  iron  ran  into  a  bog,  formed  low  combina 
tions,  and  had  no  other  mould  than  twigs  and  leaves  af 
forded.  Its  volcanic  origin  was  forgotten  when  it  ran 
with  sand  and  gravel  away  from  the  mountain  vein  and 
upland  ore  along  the  low,  alluvial  bar,  till,  like  an  oyster, 
the  iron  is  dredged  from  the  stagnant  pool,  impure,  ineffi 
cacious,  corrupted.  So  is  it  with  man,  whose  magnetic 
spirit  follows  the  dull  declivity  to  the  barren  sandbars  of 
the  world,  and  lodges  there.  I  am  of  the  bog  ores ;  but 
that  exists  which  will  flux  with  me,  clean  me  of  rust,  and 
transmit  my  better  quality  to  posterity.  O,  youth,  beauty, 
and  station — lovely  Vesta!  for  thee  I  will  be  iron  !" 

Milburn  looked  around  the  single  room  inquiringly. 
He  placed  his  finger  upon  the  crevices  in  the  weather- 
boarding  ;  he  opened  the  little  closet  below  the  stairs,  and 
a  weasel  dashed  out  and  shot  through  the  door ;  he  as 
cended  the  steep,  short  stairs,  and  with  a  torch  examined 
the  black  shingles,  but  nothing  was  there  except  a  litter 
of  young  owls,  whose  parents  had  gone  poaching.  Then, 


THE   BOG-ORE  TRACT.  29 

returning,  he  searched  on  every  open  beam  and  rotting 
board,  as  if  for  writing. 

"  They  could  not  write  !"  he  thought.  "  Nothing  is  left 
to  me,  not  even  a  sign,  down  a  century  and  a  half,  to  tell 
that  I  had  parents  !" 

As  he  spoke  he  felt  an  object  move  behind  him,  and, 
looking  back,  the  shadow  of  the  Entailed  Hat  was  dancing 
on  the  wall.  As  he  threw  his  head  back,  so  did  it ;  as  he 
retired  from  it,  the  hat  enlarged,  until  the  little  room  could 
hardly  hold  its  shadow.  Retiring  again,  he  lifted  it  from 
his  head  with  bitter  courtesy,  and  the  shadow  did  the 
same.  The  man  and  the  shadow  looked  each  at  a  peaked 
hat  and  stroked  it. 

"  This  is  everything,"  exclaimed  Milburn.  "  The  hun 
dred  humble  heads  are  at  rest  in  the  sand;  one  grave 
stone  would  mock  them  all.  But  once  the  family  brain 
expanded  to  a  hat,  and  that  survived  the  race.  I  am  the 
Quaker  who  respects  his  hat,  the  Cardinal  who  is  crowned 
with  it ;  yes,  and  the  dunce  who  must  wear  it  in  his  cor. 
ner !" 

Then  the  picture  of  his  parents  arose  upon  his  sight : 
a  cheerful  father,  with  two  or  three  old  slaves,  ploughing  in 
the  deep  sand,  to  drop  some  shrivelled  grains  of  corn,  or 
tinkering  a  disordered  mill-wheel  that  moved  a  black 
smith's  saw.  Ever  full  of  confidence  in  nothing  which 
could  increase,  credulous  and  sanguine,  tender  and  labo 
rious,  Milburn's  sire  nursed  his  forest  patches  as  if  they 
were  presently  to  be  rich  plantations,  and  was  ever  "pric 
ing  "  negroes,  mules,  tools,  and  implements,  in  expecta 
tion  of  buying  them.  Nothing  could  diminish  his  confi 
dence  but  disease  and  old  age.  He  heard  of  the  great 
"  improvement "  on  the  Furnace  tract,  and  took  his  obe 
dient  wife  and  brood  there.  As  the  laborers  pulled  out 
the  tussocks  and  roots,  encrusted  with  iron,  from  the 
swamp  and  creek,  fever  and  ague  came  forth  and  smote 
them  both. 


30  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

How  wretched  that  scene  when,  almost  too  haggard 
to  move,  father  and  mother,  in  this  one  bare  room  where 
Meshach  sat,  groaning  amid  their  many  offspring,  saw 
death  with  weakness  creep  upon  each  other — death  with 
out  priest  or  doctor,  without  residue  or  cleanliness — the 
death  the  million  die  in  lowly  huts,  yet,  oh,  how  hard ! 

"Haste,  sonny,  good  boy,"  the  frightened  father  had 
said,  knowing  not  how  ill  he  was,  in  his  dependence  on 
his  wife ;  "  take  the  horse,  and  ride  into  Snow  Hill  for 
the  doctor.  Poor  mother  is  dreadful  sick  !" 

Then,  leaping  upon  the  lean  old  horse,  bare-backed 
and  with  a  rope  bridle,  Meshach  had  pushed  through  the 
deep  sand,  bareheaded  and  barefooted,  and  almost  crazy 
with  excitement,  until  he  entered  the  shining  streets  of 
the  sandhilled  town,  and  sensitively  rushed  into  the  doc 
tor's  office,  crying,  "Daddy  and  mammy  is  sick,  at  the 
Furnace !"  and  told  his  name,  and  wheeled,  and  fled. 

But,  as  the  boy  rode  home,  more  slowly,  past  the  river 
full  of  splutter-clocks,  the  yellow  masts  of  vessels  rising 
above  the  woods,  the  flat  fields  of  corn  everywhere  bound 
ed  by  forest,  and  the  small  white  houses  of  the  better 
farmers,  and  at  last  entered  the  murmurous,  complaining 
woods,  he  saw  but  one  thing — his  mother. 

Was  she  to  disappear  from  the  lonely  clearing,  and 
leave  only  the  hut  and  its  orphans  ?  she,  who  kept  heaven 
here  below,  and  was  the  saints,  the  arts,  the  all-sufficient 
for  her  child?  With  her  there  could  be  no  poverty; 
without  her  riches  would  be  only  more  sand.  With  a 
little  molasses  she  made  Christmas  kingly  with  a  cake. 
She  could  name  a  little  chicken  "  Meshach,"  and  every 
egg  it  laid  was  a  new  toy.  A  mocking-bird  caught  in 
the  swamp  became  one  of  the  family  by  her  kindness  ; 
would  it  ever  sing  again  ?  The  religion  they  knew  was 
all  of  her.  The  poor  slaves  saw  no  difference  in  mis 
tresses  while  she  was  theirs.  In  sickness  she  was  in  her 
sphere  —  health  itself  had  come.  And  once,  the  ten- 


THE   BOG-ORE   TRACT.  31 

derest  thing  in  life,  when  his  father  and  she  had  quar 
relled,  and  the  light  of  love  being  out  made  the  darkness 
of  poverty  for  the  only  time  visible,  Meshach  saw  her 
weeping,  and  he  could  not  comfort  her. 

Then,  blinded  by  tears,  he  lashed  his  nag  along,  and 
entered  the  low  door.  She  was  dead ! 

"  Sonny,  mammy's  gone!"  the  wretched  father  groaned ; 
the  little  children,  huddling  about  the  form,  lifted  their 
wail;  the  mocking-bird  could  find  no  note  for  this,  and 
was  hushed. 

Milburn  arose ;  the  fire  was  low.  He  walked  to  the 
door,  and  there  was  a  sign  of  day ;  the  all-surrounding 
woods  of  pine  were  still  dark,  but  on  the  sandy  road  and 
hummock-field  some  light  was  shining,  like  hopefulness 
against  hope ;  the  farm  was  ploughed  no  more ;  the  un 
grateful  centuries  were  left  behind  and  abandoned,  like 
old  wilderness  battle-fields,  so  sterile  that  their  great 
events  remain  ever  unvisited. 

"  Ho  !  Samson,  boy !     It  is  time  !" 

"  Yes,  marster !"  answered  the  negro  in  the  loft. 

As  the  negro  gathered  himself  up  and  passed  down 
the  stairs,  he  saw  Meshach  Milburn  before  the  fire,  stir 
ring  the  coals.  Passing  out,  Samson  stood  a  moment  at 
the  gate,  and  lounged  up  the  road,  not  to  lose  his  mas 
ter.  As  he  stood  there,  flames  burst  out  of  the  old  hut 
and  glistened  on  the  evergreen  forest,  lighting  the  tops 
of  the  mossy  cypresses  in  the  mill-pond,  and  revealing 
the  forms  of  the  sandy  fields.  Before  he  could  start  back 
Samson  saw  his  master's  figure  go  round  and  round  the 
house,  lighting  the  weather-boarding  from  place  to  place 
with  a  torch ;  and  then  the  low  figure,  capped  with  the 
long  hat,  came  up  the  road  as  if  at  mighty  strides,  so 
lengthened  by  the  fire. 

"No  need  of  alarm,  boy!"  exclaimed  the  filial  incen 
diary.  "  Henceforth  my  only  ancestral  hall  is  here  /" 

He  held  the  ancient  tile  up  in  the  light  of  the  blaze. 


32  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Ah,  marster  !"  said  the  negro,  "  yo1  hat  will  never  give 
comfort  like  a  home,  fine  as  de  hat  may  be,  mean  as  de 
roof!  De  hat  will  never  hold  two  heads,  and  dat  makes 
happiness." 

"  The  hat,  at  least,"  answered  Milburn,  bitterly,  "  will 
cover  me  where  I  go.  Such  rotted  roofs  as  that  was 
make  captives  of  bright  souls." 

They  looked  on  the  fire  in  silence  a  few  minutes. 

"You  have  burnt  me  out,  boss,"  said  old  Samson, 
finally.  "I  ain't  got  no  place  to  go  an'  hide  when  I 
fights,  now.  It  makes  me  feel  solemn." 

"Peace!"  replied  Meshach  Milburn.  "Now  for  the 
horses  and  Princess  Anne  !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    CUSTISES    RUINED. 

VESTA  CUSTIS,  dressing  in  her  chamber,  heard  early 
wheels  upon  the  morning  air,  and  looking  through  the 
blinds  saw  a  double  team  coming  up  the  road  from 
Hardship. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  "is  that  father  coming,  yonder? 
No,  it  is  not  his  driver." 

"  Why,  Vesta !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Custis,  "  that  is  old 
Milburn's  man." 

"  Samson  Hat  ?  so  it  is.  What  is  he  doing  with  two 
horses  ?" 

Here  Vesta  laughed  aloud,  and  began  to  skip  about  in 
her  long,  slender,  worked  slippers,  whose  insteps  would 
spare  a  mouse  darting  under. 

"  Mamma,  it  is  Milburn  himself,  in  a  hack  and  span. 
See  there ;  the  steeple-top  hat,  copper  buckle  and  all ! 
Isn't  he  too  funny  for  anything !  But,  dear  me !  he  is 
staring  right  up  at  this  window.  Let  us  duck!" 


THE   CUSTISES   RUINED.  33 

Vesta's  long,  ivory-grained  arms,  divided  from  her 
beautiful  shoulders  only  by  a  spray  of  lace,  pulled  her 
mother  down. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  dear !  he  can  see  nothing  but  the 
blinds.  Perhaps  he  is  looking  for  the  Judge." 

Vesta  rose  again  in  her  white  morning -gown,  like  a 
stag  rising  from  a  snow-drift.  A  long,  trembling  move 
ment,  the  result  of  tittering,  passed  down  the  graceful 
column  of  her  back. 

"He  sits  there  like  an  Indian  riding  past  in  a  show, 
mamma  !  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  hat  ?" 

"I  think  it  must  be  buggy  by  this  time,"  said  the 
mother;  and  both  of  them  shook  with  laughter  again. 
"Unless,"  added  Mrs.  Custis,  "  the  bugs  are  starved 
out." 

"  Poor,  lonely  creature,"  said  Vesta,  "  he  can  only  wear 
such  a  hat  from  want  of  understanding." 

"  His  understanding  is  good  enough,  dear.  He  has  the 
green  gaiters  on." 

They  laughed  again,  and  Vesta's  hair,  shaken  down  by 
her  merriment,  fell  nearly  to  her  slipper,  like  the  skin  of 
some  coal-black  beast,  that  had  sprung  down  a  poplar's 
trunk. 

"  Ah !  well,"  exclaimed  Vesta,  as  her  maid  entered 
and  proceeded  to  wind  up  this  satin  cordage  on  her 
crown,  "what  men  are  in  their  minds,  can  woman  know? 
Old  ladies,  not  unfrequently,  wear  their  old  coal-scuttle 
bonnets  long  past  the  fashion,  but  it  is  from  want.  This 
man  is  his  own  master  and  not  poor.  His  companion  is 
a  negro,  and  his  taste  a  mouldy  hat,  old  as  America. 
How  happy  are  we  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  pry  into 
such  minds !  A  little  refinement  is  the  next  blessing  to 
religion." 

"Your  father's  mind  is  a  puzzle,  too,  Vesta.  He  has 
everything  which  these  foresters  lack, — education,  society, 
standing,  and  comforts.  But  he  returns  to  the  forest,  like 

3 


34  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

an  opossum,  the  moment  your  eye  is  off  him.  He  can't 
be  traced  up  like  this  man,  by  his  hat.  I  think  it's 
a  shame  on  you,  particularly.  If  he  don't  come  home 
this  day,  I  shall  send  for  my  brother  and  force  an  ac 
count  of  my  property  from  Judge  Custis  !" 

The  wife  sat  down  and  began  to  cry. 

"  I'll  take  the  carriage  after  breakfast,  mamma,  and 
seek  him  at  the  Furnace  or  wherever  he  may  be.  Those 
bog  ores  have  given  him  a  great  deal  of  trouble." 

"  I  wish  I  had  never  heard  of  bog  ore,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Custis.  "  When  the  money  was  in  bank,  there  was 
no  ore  about  it.  He  goes  to  the  forest  looking  like  a 
magistrate  and  a  gentleman ;  he  always  comes  back  look 
ing  like  a  bog-trotter  and  a  drunkard.  There  must  be 
women  in  it !" 

Here,  in  an  impulse  of  weak  rage,  the  poor  lady  got 
up  and  walked  to  her  mirror  and  looked  at  her  face. 
Apparently  satisfied  that  such  charms  were  trampled  on, 
she  dried  her  tears  altogether,  and  resumed  :  • 

"  Ginny,  go  out  of  the  room !  (to  the  neat  mulatto  lass). 
Vesta,  my  dear  daughter,  I  would  not  cast  a  stain  upon 
you  for  the  world  ;  but  flesh  and  blood  will  cry  out.  If 
your  father  don't  do  better  I  will  separate  from  him,  and 
leave  Princess  Anne !" 

"Why,  mother  r 

The  daughter's  bright  eyes  were  large  and  startled 
now,  and  their  steel-blue  tint  grew  plainer  under  her  rich 
black  eyebrows. 

"I  will  do  it,  if  I  die,  unless  he  reforms  !" 

"Why,  mother!" 

Vesta  stood  with  her  lips  parted,  and  her  beautiful 
teeth  just  lacing  the  coral  of  the  lip.  She  could  say  no 
more  for  a  long  moment.  Rising  as  she  spoke,  with  her 
head  thrown  back,  and  her  mould  the  fuller  and  a  pallor 
in  her  cheeks,  she  looked  the  Eve  first  hearing  the  Crea 
tor's  rebuke. 


THE   CUSTISES   RUINED.  35 

"A  separation  in  this  family?"  whispered  Vesta.  "It 
would  scandalize  all  Maryland.  It  would  break  my  heart." 

"  Darling  daughter,  my  heart  must  be  considered  some 
times.  I  was  something  before  I  was  a  Custis.  I  am 
a  woman,  too." 

Vesta,  still  pale,  crossed  to  her  mother's  side  and 
kissed  her. 

"Don't,  don't,  mamma,  ever  harbor  a  thought  like  that 
again.  You,  who  have  been  so  brave  and  patient  longer 
than  I  have  lived  !" 

"Ah,  Vesta,  it  is  the  length  of  injury  that  wears  us 
out !  What  if  something  should  happen  to  us  ?  None 
are  so  unfit  to  bear  poverty  as  we." 

"We  cannot  be  poor,"  said  the  daughter,  soothingly. 
"Don't  you  remember,  mother,  where  it  says:  'As  thy 
day,  so  shall  thy  strength  be '  ?" 

"My  child,"  Mrs.  Custis  replied,  "your  day  is  young. 
Life  looks  hopeful  to  you.  I  am  growing  old,  and  where 
is  the  arm  on  which  I  should  be  leaning?  What  are  we 
but  two  women  left  ?  There  is  another  passage  on  which 
I  often  think  when  we  sit  so  often  alone :  '  Two  women 
shall  be  grinding  at  the  mill :  the  one  shall  be  taken  and 
the  other  left  1'  Is  that  you,  or  is  it  I  ?  Listen,  my  child  ! 
it  is  time  that  you  should  feel  the  melancholy  truth ! 
Your  father's  habits  have  mastered  him.  He  is  beyond 
reclamation !" 

Vesta  was  kneeling,  and  she  slowly  raised  her  head 
and  looked  at  her  mother,  with  her  nostrils  dilated.  Mrs. 
Custis  felt  uneasy  before  the  aroused  mind  of  her  child. 

"  Don't  look  at  me  so,  Vesta,"  the  poor  lady  pleaded. 
"  I  thought  you  ought  to  know  it." 

"How  dare  you  say  that  of  my  father?  Of  Judge 
Custis  ?" 

As  they  were  in  this  suspense  of  feeling,  wheels  were 
heard.  The  daughter  went  to  the  window  and  looked 
down,  and  then  returned  to  her  mother's  ear. 


36  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Hush,  mother,  it  is  papa.  Now,  wash  your  eyes  at  the 
toilet.  Let  us  meet  him  cheerfully.  Never  say  again 
that  he  is  beyond  reclamation,  while  we  can  try !" 

A  kiss  smoothed  Mrs.  Custis's  countenance.  Vesta 
was  dressed  for  breakfast  in  a  few  moments,  and  de 
scended  to  the  library  and  was  received  in  her  father's 
arms.  He  held  her  there  a  long  while,  and  held  her 
close,  and  by  little  fits  renewed  his  embrace,  but  she  felt 
that  his  breath  was  feverish  and  his  arms  trembled. 
Looking  up  at  him  she  saw,  indeed,  that  he  was  flushed, 
yet  haggard  and  careworn. 

"Vessy,"  he  spoke  with  a  feeble  attempt  to  smile, 
"  I  want  a  glass  of  brandy.  Mine  gave  out  at  the  Fur 
nace,  and  the  morning  ride  has  weakened  me.  Where 
is  the  key  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  half-glance,  so  that  he  might 
not  suspect,  as  if  to  measure  his  need  of  stimulant. 
Then,  without  a  word,  she  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room 
and  unlocked  the  liquor  closet,  and  turned  her  back  lest 
he  might  not  drink  his  need  from  sensitiveness. 

"  Naughty  man,"  said  Vesta,  standing  off  and  looking 
at  him  when  he  was  done.  "  I  was  going  down  for  you 
to  the  Furnace  after  breakfast.  We  will  have  no  more  of 
this  truantry.  Mamma  and  I  have  set  our  feet  down  ! 
You  must  come  back  from  the  Furnace  every  night,  and 
go  again  in  the  morning,  like  other  business  men.  Be 
very  kind  to  mamma  this  morning,  sir !  She  feels  your 
neglect." 

Vesta  had  already  rung  for  the  Judge's  valet,  who  now 
appeared,  drew  off  his  boots,  supplied  his  slippers  and 
dressing-gown,  and  led  the  way  to  his  bath.  In  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  he  re-appeared,  looking  better,  and  he  irreso 
lutely  turned  again  towards  the  dining-room,  smiling  sug 
gestively  at  Vesta. 

"Not  that  way,"  spoke  she.  "Here  is  mamma,  and 
we  are  ready  for  prayers.  Here  is  the  place  in  the  Bible." 


THE    CUSTISES    RUINED.  37 

They  all  went  to  the  family  room,  where  the  dressing- 
maids  of  Vesta  and  her  mother  were  waiting  for  the 
usual  morning  prayers.  Vesta  placed  the  open  Bible  on 
her  father's  knee,  and  he  began  absently  and  stumblingly 
to  read.  It  was  in  the  book  of  Samuel,  and  seemed  to 
be  some  old  Jewish  mythology.  He  suddenly  came  to  a 
verse  which  arrested  his  sensibilities  by  its  pathos : 

"  *  And  David  sent  messengers  to  Ish-bosheth,  Saul's 
son,  saying,  Deliver  me  my  wife  Michal.  .  .  .  And  Ish- 
bosheth  sent,  and  took  her  from  her  husband,  even  from 
Phaltiel,  the  son  of  Laish.  And  her  husband  wenfwith 
her  along  weeping  behind  her.  .  .  .  Then  said  Abner 
unto  him  :  Go,  return.  And  he  returned.'  " 

Judge  Custis  saw  at  once  the  picture  this  compact  his 
tory  aroused.  The  inexorable  David,  perhaps,  had  mar 
ried  another's  love.  Occasion  had  arisen  to  embitter 
her  kin,  and  they  took  her  back  and  gave  her  in  happi 
ness  to  her  pining  lover.  But,  again,  the  man  of  correct 
habits  triumphed  over  the  sons  of  the  king,  and  de 
spatched  Abner  to  tear  his  wife  from  her  true  husband's 
arms.  Poor  Phaltiel  followed  her  weeping,  until  ordered 
to  go  back — and  back  he  went,  forever  desolate. 

The  scene  recalled  the  brutal  demand  of  his  creditor 
upon  his  child.  The  Judge's  eyes  silently  o'erflowed,  and 
he  could  not  see. 

Vesta  had  watched  him  closely,  as  her  silent  magistracy 
detected  a  great  anxiety  or  illness  in  her  father.  Lest 
her  mother  might  also  notice  it,  she  interposed  in  the 
lesson,  as  was  her  habit,  by  reading  the  Episcopal  form 
of  prayer,  in  which  they  all  bent  their  heads.  Once  or 
twice,  as  she  went  on,  she  detected  a  suppressed  sob, 
especially  at  the  paragraph  :  "  Thou  who  knowest  the 
weakness  and  corruption  of  our  nature,  and  the  mani 
fold  temptations  which  we  daily  meet  with,  we  humbly 
beseech  thee  to  have  compassion  on  our  infirmities 
and  to  give  us  the  constant  assistance  of  thy  Holy 


38  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Spirit,  that  we  may  be  effectually  restrained  from  sin 
and  excited  to  our  duty  !" 

They  went  to  the  breakfast -table,  and  the  Judge's 
countenance  was  down.  He  bit  off  some  toast  and  filled 
his  mouth  with  tea,  but  could  not  swallow.  A  hand 
softly  touched  his  elbow,  and,  looking  there,  he  saw  a 
wine-glass  full  of  brandy  softly  glide  to  the  spot.  As  he 
looked  up  and  saw  the  rich,  yearning  face  of  his  dark- 
eyed  daughter  tenderly  consulting  his  weakness,  his  heart 
burst  forth  ;  he  leaned  his  head  upon  the  table  and  cried, 
between  drink  and  grief: 

"  Darling,  we  are  ruined  !" 

Mrs.  Custis  at  once  arose,  and  looked  frightenedly  at 
the  Judge.  Vesta  as  quickly  turned  to  the  servants  and 
motioned  them  to  go. 

"  No,  let  them  hear  it !"  raved  Judge  Custis,  perceiving 
the  motion.  "  They  are  interested,  like  us.  They  must 
be  sold,  too.  Faithful  servants!  Perhaps  it  may  warn 
them  to  escape  in  time !" 

The  servants,  bred  like  ladies,  quietly  left  the  room. 

Mrs.  Custis,  growing  paler,  exclaimed  : 

"  Daniel  Custis,  have  you  lost  everything  in  that  fur 
nace  ?" 

"  Everything !" 

"  And  my  money,  too  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Merciful  God  1" 

Before  the  weak  lady  could  fall  Vesta's  arm  was  around 
her,  and  her  finger  on  the  table-bell.  Servants  entered 
and  Mrs.  Custis  was  carried  out,  her  daughter  follow 
ing. 

When  Vesta  returned  her  father  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  floor  with  his  long  silk  handkerchief  in  both 
hands,  weeping  bitterly,  and  speaking  broken  syllables. 
She  looked  at  him  a  moment  with  all  the  might  of  a 
daughter,  first  called  on  to  act  alone  in  a  great  crisis. 


THE   CUSTISES   RUINED.  39 

The  feeling  she  was  wont  to  hold  towards  him,  of  per 
fect  pride,  had  received  a  blow  in  her  mother's  expres 
sion-:  "Your  father's  habits  have  mastered  him  beyond 
reclamation." 

Could  this  be  true ;  that  he,  the  grand,  the  kind,  the 
gentleman,  was  beneath  the  diver's  reach,  the  plummet's 
sounding,  where  light  could  not  pierce,  nor  Hope  over 
take  ?  Her  father,  the  first  gentleman  in  Somerset,  a 
drunkard,  going  ever  downward  towards  the  gutter,  and 
no  ray  of  heaven  to  beam  upon  his  grave  ! 

She  saw  his  danger  now :  it  was  written  on  his  face, 
where  the  image  of  God  shone  dim  that  had  once  been 
crowned  there.  Hair  thinner,  and  very  gray ;  the  rich, 
dark  eyes  intimidated,  as  if  manly  confidence  was  gone; 
the  skin  no  more  the  pure  scroll  of  regular  life  written  in 
the  healthy  fluid  of  the  heart,  but  faded,  yet  spotted  with 
alcohol;  on  the  nose  and  lips  signs  of  coarser  sensuality; 
the  large  skeleton  bent  and  the  nervous  temperament 
shattered.  This  father  had  been  until  this  moment 
Vesta's  angel.  Now,  there  might  not  be  an  angel  in  the 
universe  to  fly  to  his  rescue.  Deep,  dreadful  humility 
descended  into  the  daughter's  spirit. 

"  God  forgive  me !"  she  thought,  "  how  blind  and  how 
proud  and  sinful  I  have  been  I" 

She  walked  over  to  her  father  tenderly  and  kissed  him, 
and  then,  drawing  his  weaker  inclination  by  hers,  brought 
him  to  a  sofa,  placed  a  pillow  for  him,  and  made  him 
Stretch  his  once  proud  form  there.  Procuring  a  bowl 
of  water,  she  washed  his  face  free  of  tears  with  a  napkin, 
and  bathed  it  in  cologne.  The  voluptuous  nature  of  the 
Judge  yielded  to  the  perfume  and  the  easy  position,  and 
he  sobbed  himself  to  sleep  like  an  exhausted  child. 

Sitting  by  the  sleeping  bankrupt,  watching  his  breast 
rise  and  fall,  and  hearing  his  coarse  snoring,  as  if  fiends 
within  were  snarling  in  rivalry  for  the  possession  of  him, 
Vesta  felt  that  the  life  which  was  unconscious  there  was 


40  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  fountain  of  her  own,  and,  loving  no  man  else,  she  felt 
her  heart  like  a  goldfish  of  that  fountain,  go  around  and 
around  it  throbbingly. 

Then  first  arose  the  wish,  often  in  woman's  life  re 
peated,  to  have  been  born  a  man,  and  know  how  to  help 
her  father.  That  suggested  that  she  had  brothers  who 
ought  to  be  summoned,  and  confer  with  their  father ;  but 
now  it  occurred  to  her  that  every  one  of  them  had  leaned 
upon  him  ;  and,  though  conscious  that  it  was  wicked, 
Vesta  felt  her  pride  rise  against  the  thought  that  any  be 
ing  outside  of  that  house,  even  a  brother,  should  know 
of  its  disgrace. 

What  could  she  do?  She  thought  of  all  her  jewels, 
her  riding  mare,  her  watch,  her  father's  own  gifts,  and 
then  the  thought  perished  that  these  could  help  him. 

Could  she  not  earn  something  by  her  voice,  which  had 
sung  to  such  praises?  Alas!  that  voice  had  lost  the  in 
gredient  of  hope,  and  she  feared  to  unclose  her  lips  lest 
it  might  come  forth  in  agony,  crying,  "  God,  have  mercy !" 

"I  have  nothing,"  said  Vesta  to  herself;  "except  love 
for  these  two  martyrs,  my  father  and  mother.  No,  noth 
ing  can  be  done  until  he  awakens  and  tells  me  the  worst. 
Meantime  it  would  be  wicked  for  me  to  increase  the  agi 
tation  already  here,  and  where  I  must  be  the  comforter." 


CHAPTER  VII. 
JACK-O'-LANTERN  IRON. 

MRS.  CUSTIS  was  in  no  situation  to  give  annoyance  for 
that  day,  as  a  sick-headache  seized  her  and  she  kept  her 
room.  Infirm  of  will,  purely  social  in  her  marriage  re 
lations,  and  never  aiming  higher  than  respectability,  she 
missed  the  coarse  mark  of  her  husband  who,  with  all  his 
moral  defections,  probably  was  her  moral  equal,  his  vital 


JACK-O'-LANTERN  IRON.  41 

standard  higher,  his  tone  a  genial  hypocrisy,  and  at  bot 
tom  he  was  a  democrat. 

Mrs.  Custis  had  no  insight  nor  variability  of  chanty ; 
her  mind,  bounded  by  the  municipal  republic  of  Balti 
more,  which  esteems  itself  the  world,  particularly  among 
its  mercantile  aristocracy,  who  live  like  the  old  Venetian 
nobility  among  their  flat  lagoons,  and  do  commerce 
chiefly  with  the  Turk  in  the  more  torrid  and  instinctive 
Indies  and  South.  Amiable,  social,  afraid  of  new  ideas, 
frugal  of  money;  if  hospitable  at  the  table,  with  a  certain 
spiriteclness  that  is  seldom  intellectual,  but  a  beauty  that 
powerfully  attracts,  till,  by  the  limited  sympathies  beneath 
it,  the  husband  from  the  outer  world  discerns  how  hope 
lessly  slavery  and  caste  sink  into  an  old  shipping  society, 
the  Baltimore  that  ruled  the  Chesapeake  had  no  more 
perfected  product  than  Mrs.  Custis. 

Her  modesty  and  virtue  were  as  natural  as  her  preju 
dices  ;  she  believed  that  marriage  was  the  close  of  female 
ambition,  and  marrying  her  children  was  the  only  inno 
vation  to  be  permitted.  Certain  accomplishments  she 
thought  clue  to  woman,  but  none  of  them  must  become 
masculine  in  prosecution;  a  professional  woman  she 
shrank  from  as  from  an  infidel  or  an  abolitionist ;  read 
ing  was  meritorious  up  to  an  orthodox  point,  but  a  passion 
for  new  books  was  dangerous,  probably  irreligious.  To 
lose  one's  money  was  a  crime ;  to  lose  another's  money 
the  unforgiven  sin,  because  that  was  Baltimore  public 
opinion,  which  she  thought  was  the  only  opinion  entitled 
to  consideration.  The  old  Scotch  and  Irish  merchants 
there  had  made  it  the  law  that  enterprise  was  only  ex 
cusable  by  success,  and  that  success  only  branded  an  in 
novator.  A  good  standard  of  society,  therefore,  had  bare 
ly  permitted  Judge  Custis  to  take  up  the  bog-ore  manu 
facture,  and,  failing  in  it,  his  wife  thought  he  was  no  bet 
ter  than  a  Jacobin. 

On  the  Eastern  Shore,  where  society  was  formed  be- 


42  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

fore  Glasgow  and  Belfast  had  colonized  upon  the  Chesa 
peake  with  their  precise  formulas  of  life,  a  gentler  be 
nevolence  rose  and  descended  upon  the  ground  every 
day,  like  the  evaporations  of  those  prolific  seas  which 
manure  the  thin  soil  unfailingly.  Religion  and  benevo 
lence  were  depositions  rather  than  dogmas  there ;  mod 
erate  poverty  was  the  not  unwelcome  expectation,  wealth 
a  subject  of  apprehensive  scruples,  kindness  the  law, 
pride  the  exception,  and  grinding  avarice,  like  Meshach 
Milburn's,  was  the  mark  of  the  devil  entering  into  the 
neighbor  and  the  fellow-man. 

Judge  Custis  was  representative  of  his  neighbors  ex 
cept  in  his  Virginia  voluptuousness ;  his  neighbors  were 
neither  prudes  nor  hypocrites,  and  he  respected  them 
more  than  the  arrogant  race  in  the  old  land  of  Accomac 
and  in  the  Virginia  peninsulas,  whose  traits  he  had  al 
most  lost.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  last  of 
the  cavalier  stock  was  his  daughter,  Vesta.  From  him  it 
had  nearly  departed,  and  his  sense  of  moral  shortcom 
ings  expanded  his  heart  and  made  him  tenderly  pious  to 
his  kind,  if  not  to  God.  He  admired  new-comers,  new 
business  modes,  and  Northern  intruders  and  ideas,  feel 
ing  that  perhaps  the  last  evidence  of  his  aristocracy  from 
nature  was  a  chivalric  resignation.  The  pine-trees  were 
saying  to  him  :  "Ye  shall  go  like  the  Indians,  but  be  not 
inhospitable  to  your  successors,  and  leave  them  your 
benediction,  that  the  great  bay  and  its  rivers  may  be 
splendid  with  ships  and  men,  though  ye  are  perished  for 
ever."  A  perception  of  the  energy  of  his  countrymen, 
and  a  pride  in  it,  without  any  mean  reservation,  though 
it  might  involve  his  personal  humiliation,  was  Judge  Cus- 
tis's  only  remaining  claim  to  heaven's  magnanimity.  Still, 
rich  in  human  nature,  he  was  beloved  by  his  daughter 
with  all  her  soul. 

He  awoke  long  after  noon,  in  body  refreshed,  and  a 
glass  of  milk  and  a  plover  broiled  on  toast  were  ready 


JACK-O'-LANTERN  IRON.  43 

for  him  to  eat,  with  some  sprigs  of  new  celery  from  the 
garden  to  feed  his  nerves.  He  made  this  small  meal 
silently,  and  Vesta  said,  as  the  tray  was  removed : 

"  Now,  papa,  before  we  leave  this  room,  you  are  to  tell 
me  the  whole  injury  you  have  suffered,  and  what  all  of 
us  can  do  to  assist  you  ;  for  if  you  had  succeeded  the 
reward  would  have  been  ours,  and  we  must  divide  the 
pains  of  your  misfortune  with  you  without  any  regret. 
Courage,  papa  !  and  let  me  understand  it." 

The  Judge  feebly  looked  at  Vesta,  then  searched  his 
mind  with  his  eyes  downcast,  and  finally  spoke  : 

"  My  child,  I  am  the  victim  of  good  intentions  and  self- 
enjoyment.  I  am  less  than  a  scoundrel  and  worse  than 
a  fool.  I  am  a  fraud,  and  you  must  be  made  to  see  it, 
for  I  fear  you  have  been  proud  of  me." 

"Oh,  father,  I  have!"  said  Vesta,  with  an  instant's 
convulsion.  "  You  were  my  God." 

"  Let  us  throw  away  idolatry,  my  darling.  It  is  the 
first  of  all  the  sins.  How  loud  speaks  the  first  command 
ment  to  us  this  moment :  '  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods 
before  me  '  ? " 

"  I  have  broken  it,"  sobbed  Vesta,  "  I  loved  you  more 
than  my  Creator." 

"  Vesta,"  spoke  the  Judge,  "  you  are  the  only  thing 
of  value  in  all  my  house.  The  work  of  nature  in  you 
is  all  that  survives  the  long  edifice  of  our  pride.  The 
treasure  of  your  beauty  and  love  still  makes  me  rich 
to  thieves,  who  lie  in  ambush  all  around  us.  We  are  in 
danger,  we  are  pursued.  O  God  !  pity,  pity  the  pure  in 
heart!" 

As  the  Judge,  under  his  strong  earnestness,  so  rare  in 
him  of  late,  threw  wide  his  arms,  and  raised  his  brow  in 
agony,  Vesta  felt  her  idolatry  come  back.  He  was  so 
grand,  standing  there  in  his  unaffected  pain  and  helpless 
ness,  that  he  seemed  to  her  some  manly  Prometheus, 
who  had  worked  with  fire  and  iron,  to  the  exasperation 


44  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

of  the  jealous  gods.  Admiration  dried  her  tears,  and  she 
forgot  her  father's  references  to  herself. 

"  What  is  iron  ?"  she  asked.  "  Tell  me  why  you  wanted 
to  make  iron  !  If  I  can  enter  into  your  mind  and  sym 
pathize  with  the  hopes  you  have  had,  it  will  lift  my  soul 
from  the  ground.  Papa,  I  should  have  asked  for  this 
lesson  long  ago." 

The  Judge  strode  up  and  down  till  she  repeated  the 
question,  and  had  brought  him  to  his  seat.  He  collected 
his  thoughts,  and  resumed  his  worldly  tone  as  he  pro 
ceeded,  with  his  old  cavalier  volatility,  to  tell  the  tale  of 
iron. 

"  I  have  duplicated  loans,"  he  said  at  last,  "  on  the 
same  properties,  incurring,  I  fear,  a  stigma  upon  my  family 
and  character ;  as  well  as  the  ruin  of  our  fortune." 

Vesta  arose  with  pale  lips  and  a  sinking  heart. 

"  Oh,  father,"  she  whispered,  in  a  frightened  tone,"  who 
knows  this  terrible  secret !" 

"  Only  one  man,"  said  the  Judge,  cowering  down  to 
the  carpet,  with  his  courage  and  volatility  immediately 
gone,  "  old  Meshach  Milburn  knows  it  all !  He  has  pur 
chased  the  duplicate  notes  of  protest,  and  holds  them 
with  his  own.  He  has  me  in  his  power,  and  hates  me. 
He  will  expose  me,  unless  I  submit  to  an  awful  condition." 

"What  is  it,  father?" 

The  Judge  looked  up  in  terror,  and,  meeting  Vesta's 
pale  but  steady  gaze,  hid  his  face  and  groaned  : 

"  Oh !  it  is  too  disgraceful  to  tell.  It  will  break  your 
mother's  heart." 

"  Tell  me  at  once  !"  exclaimed  Vesta,  in  a  low  and 
hollow  tone.  "  What  further  disgrace  can  this  monster 
inflict  upon  us  than  to  expose  our  dishonor?  Can  he 
kill  us  more  than  that  ?" 

"  I  know  not  how  to  tell  you,  Vessy.  Spare  me,  my 
darling  !  My  face  I  hide  for  shame." 

There   was   a  pause,  while  Vesta,  with   her   mind   ex- 


THE    HAT    FINDS    A    RACK.  45 

panded  to  touch  every  point  of  suggestion,  stood  looking 
down  at  her  father,  yet  hardly  seeing  him.  He  did  not 
move. 

Vesta  stooped  and  raised  her  father's  face  to  find  some 
solution  of  his  mysterious  evasion.  He  shut  his  eyes  as 
if  she  burned  him  with  her  wondering  look. 

"Papa,  look  at  me  this  instant!  You  shall  not  be  a 
coward  to  me." 

He  broke  from  her  hands  and  retreated  to  a  window, 
looking  at  her,  but  with  a  timorous  countenance. 

"  I  wish  you  to  go  this  moment  and  find  your  creditor, 
Mr.  Milburn,  and  bring  him  to  me.  You  must  obey  me, 
sir !" 

The  father  raised  his  hands  as  if  to  protest,  but  before 
he  could  speak  a  shadow  fell  upon  the  window,  and  the 
figure  of  a  small,  swarthy  man  covered  with  a  steeple- 
crowned  hat  advanced  up  the  front  steps. 

"  Saviour,  have  mercy  !"  murmured  Judge  Custis,  "  the 
wolf  is  at  the  door." 

Vesta  took  her  father  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  him  once 
assuringly. 

"  Papa,  go  send  a  servant  to  open  the  door.  Have 
Mr.  Milburn  shown  into  this  room  to  await  me.  Do  you 
go  and  engage  my  mother  affectionately,  and  both  of  you 
remain  in  your  chamber  till  I  am  ready  to  call  you." 

The  proximity  of  the  dreadful  creditor  had  almost 
paralyzed  Judge  Custis,  and  he  glided  out  like  a  ghost. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    HAT    FINDS    A    RACK. 

MESHACH  MILBURN  had  locked  the  store  after  writing 
some  letters,  and  had  taken  the  broad  street  for  Judge 
Custis's  gate.  The  news  of  his  disappearance  towards 


46  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  Furnace,  with  an  extravagant  livery  team,  had  spread 
among  all  the  circle  around  the  principal  tavern,  and 
they  were  discussing  the  motive  and  probabilities  of  the 
act,  with  that  deep  inner  ignorance  so  characteristic  of 
an  instinctive  society.  Old  Jimmy  Phcebus,  a  huge  man, 
with  a  broad  face  and  small  forehead,  was  called  upon 
for  his  view. 

"It's  nothin'  but  a  splurge,"  said  Jimmy  ;  "sooner  or 
later  everybody  splurges — shows  off!  Meshach's  jest 
spilin'  with  money  and  he  must  have  a  splurge — two  hosses 
and  a  nigger.  If  it  ain't  a  splurge  I  can't  tell  what  ails 
him  to  save  my  life." 

A  general  chorus  went  up  of  "  Dogged  if  I  kin  tell  to 
save  my  life !" 

Levin  Dennis,  the  terrapin-buyer,  made  a  wild  guess, 
as  follows  : 

"  Meshach,  I  reckon,  is  a  goin'  into  the  hoss  business. 
He's  a  ben  in  everything  else,  and  has  tuk  to  hosses. 
If  it  tain't  hosses,  I  can't  tell  to  save  my  life !" 

All  the  lesser  intellects  of  the  party  executed  a  low 
chuckle,  spun  around  half-way  on  their  boot-heels  and 
back  again,  and  muttered  :  "  Not  to  save  my  life  !" 

Jack  Wonnell,  wearing  one  of  the  new  bell-crowns,  and 
barefooted,  and  looking  like  a  vagrant  who  had  tried  on 
a  militia  grenadier's  imposing  bearskin  hat,  let  off  this 
irrelevant  addendum  : 

"  Ole  Milbun's  gwyn  to  see  a  gal.  Fust  time  a  man 
changes  his  regler  course  wilently,  it's  a  gal.  I  went  into 
my  bell-crowns  to  git  a  gal.  Milbun's  gwyn  get  a  gal 
out  yonda  in  forest.  If  that  ain't  it,  can't  tell  to  save 
m'  life !" 

The  smaller  fry,  not  being  trained  to  suggestion,  grinned, 
held  their  mouths  agape,  executed  the  revolution  upon 
one  heel,  and  echoed  :  "  Dogged  ef  a  kin  tell  t'  save  m' 
life  !" 

"  He's   a    comin',  boys,  whooep  !"   exclaimed   Jimmy 


THE    HAT    FINDS    A    RACK.  47 

Phoebus.  "  Now  we'll  all  take  off  our  hats  an'  do  it  po 
lite,  for,  by  smoke  !  thar's  goin'  to  be  hokey-pokey  of 
some  kind  or  nuther  in  Prencess  Anne !" 

The  smallish  man  in  the  Guy  Fawkes  hat  and  the  old, 
ultra-genteel,  greenish  gaiters,  walked  towards  them  with 
his  resinous  bold  eyes  to  the  front,  his  nose  informing 
him  of  what  was  in  the  air  like  any  silken  terrier's,  and 
yet  with  a  pallor  of  the  skin  as  of  a  sick  person's,  and 
less  than  his  daily  expression  of  hostility  to  Princess 
Anne. 

"He's  got  the  ager,"  remarked  Levin  Dennis,  "them's 
the  shakes,  comin'  on  him  by  to-morrey,  ef  I  know  tarra- 
pin  bubbles !" 

The  latter  end  only  of  the  nearest  approach  to  pro 
fanity  current  in  that  land  was  again  heard,  fluttering 
around  :  "  to  save  my  life  !" 

Jimmy  Phoebus  had  the  name  of  being  descended  from 
a  Greek  pirate,  or  patriot,  who  had  settled  on  the  Eastern 
Shore,  and  Phoebus  looked  it  yet,  with  his  rich  brown 
complexion,  broad  head,  and  Mediterranean  eyes.  "  Good- 
afternoon,  Mr.  Milburn  !"  spoke  Jimmy,  loud  and  care 
less. 

"  Good-afternoon,  Mr.  Phoebus.  Gentlemen,  good-after 
noon  !" 

As  he  responded,  with  a  voice  hardly  genial  but  placat 
ing,  Milburn  lifted  his  ancient  and  formidable  hat,  and  in 
an  instant  seemed  to  come  a  century  nearer  to  his  neigh 
bors.  His  stature  was  reduced,  his  unsociableness  seemed 
modified ;  he  now  looked  to  be  a  smallish,  friendless  per 
son,  as  if  some  ownerless  dog  had  darted  through  the 
street,  and  heard  a  kind  chirp  at  the  tavern  door,  where 
his  reception  had  been  stones.  His  voice,  with  a  little 
tremor  in  it,  emboldened  Levin  Dennis  also  to  speak  : 

"  Look  out  for  fevernager  this  month,  Mr.  Milburn  !" 

Meshach  bowed  his  head,  gliding  along  as  if  bashfully 
anxious  to  pass. 


48  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Nice  weather  for  drivin' !"  added  Jack  Wonnell,  hav 
ing  also  taken  off  his  own  tile  of  frivolity,  to  feel  the  effect ; 
but  this  remark  was  regarded  by  the  group  as  too  forward, 
and  a  low  chorus  ran  round  of  "Jack  Wonnell  can't  help 
bein'  a  fool  to  save  his  life  !" 

Milburn  said  to  himself,  passing  on  :  "  Are  those  voices 
kinder  than  usually,  or  am  I  more  timid  ?  What  is  it  in 
the  air  that  makes  everything  so  acute,  and  my  cheeks  to 
tingle  ?  Am  I  sick,  or  is  it  Love  ?" 

The  word  frightened  him,  and  the  sand  under  his  feet 
seemed  to  crack ;  a  woodpecker  in  an  old  tree  tapped 
as  if  if  was  the  tree's  old  heart  quickened  by  something  ; 
the  houses  all  around  looked  like  live  objects,  with  their 
windows  fixed  upon  his  walk,  like  married  folks'  eyes. 
As  he  came  in  sight  of  Judge  Custis's  residence,  so  ex 
pressive  of  old  respect  and  long  intentions,  the  money 
lender  almost  stopped,  so  mild  and  peacefully  it  looked 
at  him — so  undisturbed,  while  he  was  palpitating. 

"Why  this  pain?"  thought  Milburn.  "Am  I  afraid? 
That  house  is  mine.  Do  I  fear  to  enter  my  own  ?  And 
yet  it  does  not  fear  me.  It  has  been  there  so  long  that 
it  has  no  fears,  and  every  window  in  it  faces  benignant  to 
my  coming.  The  three  gables  survey  yonder  forest  land 
scape  like  three  old  magistrates  on  the  bench,  adminis 
tering  justice  to  a  county  where  never  till  now  was  there 
a  ravisher !" 

The  thought  produced  a  moment's  intellectual  pride  in 
him,  like  lawless  power's  uneasy  paroxysm.  "It  is  the 
Forest  these  gentles  have  to  fear  to-day  !"  he  thought,  re 
sentfully,  then  stopped,  with  another  image  his  word 
aroused : 

"What  has  that  forest  ever  felt  of  injury  or  hate,  with 
every  cabin -door  unlatched,  no  robber  feared  by  any 
there,  the  blossoms  on  the  negro's  peach-tree,  the  ripe 
persimmons  on  the  roadside,  plenteous  to  every  forester's 
child,  and  humility  and  affection  making  all  richer,  with- 


THE    HAT    FINDS    A    RACK.  49 

out  a  dollar  in  the  world,  than  I,  the  richest  upstart  of  the 
forest,  compelled  to  buy  affection,  like  an  indifferent  slave !" 

A.  large  dog  at  Custis's  home,  seeing  him  walk  so 
slowly,  came  down  the  path  to  the  gate,  also  walking 
slow,  and  showed  neither  animosity  nor  interest,  except 
mechanically  to  walk  behind  him  towards  the  door. 

"The  dog  knows  me,"  thought  the  quickened  heart  of 
Meshach,  "from  life-long  seeing  of  me,  but  never  wagged 
his  tail  at  me  in  all  that  time.  Could  I  acquire  the  heart 
even  of  this  dog,  though  I  might  buy  him  ?  My  debtor's 
step  would  still  be  most  welcome  to  him,  and  he  would 
eat  my  food  in  strangeness  and  fear." 

Milburn  walked  up  the  steps,  and  sounded  the  sub 
stantial  brass  knocker.  It  struck  four  times,  loud  and 
deep,  and  the  stillness  that  followed  was  louder  yet,  like 
the  unknown  thing,  after  sentence  has  been  passed.  He 
seemed  to  be  there  a  very  long  time  with  his  heart  quite 
vacant,  as  if  the  debtor's  knocker  had  scared  every  chat 
terer  out  of  it,  and  yet  his  temples  and  ears  were  ringing. 
He  was  thinking  of  sounding  the  knocker  again,  when  a 
lady's  servant,  partly  white,  rolled  back  the  bolt,  and 
bowed  to  his  question  whether  the  Judge  was  in. 

He  entered  the  broad  hall  of  that  distinguished  resi 
dence',  and  taking  the  Entailed  Hat  from  his  head,  hung 
it  up  at  last,  where  better  head-coverings  had  been  wont 
to  keep  equal  society,  on  a  carved  mahogany  rack  of 
colonial  times.  The  venerable  object,  once  there,  gave  a 
common  look  to  everything,  as  Meshach  thought,  and 
deepened  his  personal  sense  of  unworthiness.  He  tried 
to  feel  angry,  but  apprehension  was  too  strong  for  passion 
even  to  be  simulated. 

"  O,  discriminating  God !"  he  felt,  within,  "  is  it  not 
enough  to  create  us  so  unequal  that  we  must  also  cringe 
in  spirit,  and  acknowledge  it !  I  expected  to  feel  trium 
phant  when  I  lodged  my  despised  hat  in  this  man's 
house,  but  I  feel  meaner  than  before." 


50  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

The  room,  whose  door  was  opened  by  the  lady's  maid, 
was  the  library,  containing  three  cumbrous  cases  of  books, 
and  several  portraits  in  oil,  with  deep,  gilded  frames,  a 
map  of  Virginia  and  its  northeastern  environs,  including 
all  the  peninsula  south  of  the  Choptank  river  and  Cape 
Henlopen  ;  and  near  the  door  was  a  tall  clock,  that  a 
giant  might  stand  in,  solemnly  cogging  and  waving  time, 
and  giving  the  monotony  of  everlasting  evening  to  the 
place,  which  was  increased  by  the  flickering  fire  of  wood 
on  the  tall  brass  fire-irons,  before  which  some  high-backed, 
wide,  comfortable  leather  chairs  were  drawn,  all  worn  to 
luxurious  attitudes,  as  if  each  had  been  the  skin  of  Judge 
Custis  and  his  companions,  recently  evacuated. 

A  woman's  rocking-chair  was  disposed  among  them,  as 
though  every  other  chair  deferred  to  it.  This  was  the 
first  article  to  arrest  Milburn's  attention,  so  different,  so 
suggestive,  almost  a  thing  of  superstition,  poised,  like  a 
woman's  instinct  and  will,  upon  nothing  firm,  yet,  like  the 
sphere  it  moved  upon,  traversing  a  greater  arc  than  a 
giant's  seat  would  fill.  Purity  and  conquest,  power  and 
welcome,  seemed  to  abide  within  it,  like  the  empty  throne 
in  Parliament. 

Milburn,  being  left  alone,  touched  the  fairy  rocker  with 
his  foot.  It  started  so  easily  and  so  gracefully,  that,  when 
it  died  away,  he  pressed  his  lips  to  the  top  of  it,  nearest 
where  her  neck  would  be,  and  whispered  aloud,  with  feel 
ing,  "  God  knows  that  kiss,  at  least,  was  pure  !" 

He  looked  at  the  portraits,  and,  though  they  were  not 
inscribed,  he  guessed  at  them  all,  right  or  wrong,  from 
the  insight  of  local  lore  or  envious  interpretation. 

"  Yon  saucy,  greedy,  superserviceable  rogue,"  thought 
Meshach,  "  with  wine  and  beef  in  his  cheeks,  and  silver 
and  harlotry  in  his  eye,  was  the  Irish  tavern-keeper  of 
Rotterdam,  who  kept  a  heavy  score  against  the  banished 
princes  whom  Cromwell's  name  ever  made  to  swear  and 
shiver,  and  they  paid  him  in  a  distant  office  in  Accomac, 


THE    HAT    FINDS   A   RACK.  51 

where  they  might  never  see  him  and  his  bills  again,  and 
there  they  let  him  steal  most  of  the  revenue,  and,  of 
course,  his  loyalty  was  in  proportion  to  his  booty.  Many 
a  time,  no  doubt,  he  was  procurer  for  both  royal  brothers, 
Charles  and  James,  making  his  tavern  their  stew,  with 
Betty  Killigrew,  or  Lucy  Walters,  or  Katy  Peg,  or  even 
Anne  Hyde,  the  mother  of  a  queen — of  her  who  was  the 
Princess  Anne,  godmother  of  our  worshipful  town  here. 
I  have  not  read  in  vain,"  concluded  Meshach,  "  because 
my  noble  townsmen  drove  me  to  my  cell !" 

The  next  portrait  was  clothed  in  military  uniform,  with 
a  higher  type  of  manhood,  shrewd  and  vigilant,  but  mag 
isterial.  "That  should  be  Major-general  John  Custis," 
thought  Milburn,  looking  at  it,  "son  of  John  the  tapster, 
and  a  marrying,  shifty  fellow,  who  first  began  greatness 
as  a  salt-boiler  on  these  ocean  islands,  till  his  father's 
friend,  Charles  II.,  in  a  merry  mood,  made  Henry  Ben- 
net,  the  king's  bastard  son's  father-in-law,  Earl  of  Arling 
ton  and  lessee  of  Virginia.  All  the  province  for  forty 
shillings  a  year  rent !  Those  were  pure,  economical 
times,  indeed,  around  the  court.  So  salt-boiler  John 
flunkeyed  to  Arlington's  overseers,  named  his  farm  '  Ar 
lington,'  hunted  and  informed  upon  the  followers  of  the 
Puritan  rebel  Bacon,  then  turned  and  fawned  upon  King 
William,  too.  His  grandchildren,  all  well  provided  for, 
spread  around  this  bay.  So  much  for  politics  in  a  mer 
chant's  hands !" 

The  tone  of  Meshach's  comment  had  somewhat  raised 
his  courage,  and  a  sense  of  pleasurable  interest  in  the 
warm  room  and  genial  surroundings  led  him  to  pass  the 
time,  which  was  of  considerable  length,  quite  content 
edly,  till  Judge  Custis  was  ready. 

*  ***** 

Meanwhile,  the  steeple-top  hat  was  giving  some  silent 
astonishment  to  the  house  -  servants,  assembled  to  gaze 
upon  it  from  the  foot  of  the  hall.  The  neat  chamber-ser- 


52  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

vant,  Virgie,  had  carried  the  wondrous  information  to  the 
colonnade  that  the  dreadful  creditor  had  come,  and  Roxy, 
the  table  waiter,  had  carried  it  from  the  colonnade  to  the 
kitchen,  where  the  common  calamity  immediately  pro 
duced  a  revolution  against  good  manners, 

"  Hab  he  got  dat  debbil  hat  on  he  head,  chile  ?"  in 
quired  Aunt  Hominy,  laying  clown  the  club  with  which 
she  was  beating  biscuit-dough  on  the  block. 

"Yes,  aunty,  he's  left  it  on  the  hat-rack.  I'm  afraid 
to -go  past  it  to  the  do'." 

Aunt  Hominy  threw  the  club  on  the  blistered  bulk  of 
dough,  and  retreated  towards  the  big  black  fireplace,  with 
a  face  expressive  of  so  much  fright  and  cunning  humor 
together  that  it  seemed  about  to  turn  white,  but  only  got 
as  far  as  a  pucker  and  twitches. 

"De  Lord  a  massy!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Hominy,  "chil- 
len,  le's  burn  dat  hat  in  de  fire  !  Maybe  it'll  liff  de  trouble 
off  o'  dis  yer  house.  We  got  de  hat  jess  wha'  we  want 
it,  chillen.  Roxy,  gal,  you  go  fotch  it  to  Aunt  Hominy  !" 

The  girl  started  as  if  she  had  been  asked  to  take  up  a 
snake  :  "  'Deed,  Aunt  Hominy,  I  wouldn't  touch  it  to  save 
my  life.  Nobody  but  ole  Samson  ever  did  that !" 

"Go  'long,  gal!"  cried  Aunt  Hominy,  "didn't  Miss 
Vessy  hole  dat  ar'  hat  one  time,  an'  pin  a  white  rose  in 
it?  Didn't  he,  dat  drefful  Meshach  Milbun,  offer  Miss 
Vessy  a  gole  dollar,  an'  she  wouldn'  have  none  of  his 
gole  ?  Dat  she  did  !  Virgie,  you  go  git  dat  hat,  chile  ! 
Poke  it  off  de  rack  wid  my  pot-hook  heah.  'Twon't  hurt 
you,  gal !  I'll  sprinkle  ye  fust  wid  camomile  an'  witch- 
hazel  dat  I  keep  up  on  de  chimney-jamb." 

Aunt  Hominy  turned  towards  the  broadly  notched 
chimney  sides,  where  fifty  articles  of  negro  pharmacy 
were  kept — bunches  of  herbs,  dried  peppers,  bladders  of 
seeds,  and  bottles  of  every  mystic  potency. 

"Aunty,"  answered  Virgie,  "if  I  wasn't  afraid  of  the 
Bad  Man,  I  would  be  afraid  to  move  that  hat,  because 


THE   HAT   FINDS   A    RACK.  53 

Miss  Vessy  would  be  mortified.  Think  of  her  seeing  me 
treating  a  visitor's  things  like  that.  Why,  I'd  rather  be 
soldi" 

"Dat  hat,"  persisted  Aunt  Hominy,  "is  cle  ruin  ob  dis 
family.  Dat  hat,  gals,  de  debbil  giv'  ole  Meshach,  an' 
made  him  wear  it  fo'  de  gift  ob  gittin'  all  de  gole  in  Som 
erset  County.  Don't  I  know  when  he  wore  it  fust  ?  Dat 
was  when  he  begun  to  git  all  de  gole.  Fo'  dat  he  had 
been  po'  as  a  lizzer,  sellin'  to  niggers,  cookin'  fo'  heseff, 
an'  no  'count,  nohow.  He  sot  up  in  de  loft  of  his  ole  sto' 
readin'  de  Bible  upside  down  to  git  de  debbil's  frenship. 
De  debbil  come  in  one  night,  and  says  to  ole  Meshach : 
'  Yer's  my  hat !  Go,  take  it,  honey,  and  measure  land  wid 
it,  and  all  de  land  you  measure  is  yo's,  honey  !'  An'  Me- 
shach's  measured  mos'  all  dis  county  in.  Jedge  Custis's 
land  is  de  last." 

The  relation  affected  both  girls  considerably,  and  the 
group  of  little  colored  boys  and  girls  still  more,  who  came 
up  almost  chilled  with  terror,  to  listen  ;  but  it  produced 
the  greatest  effect  on  Aunt  Hominy  herself,  whose  imag 
ination,  widened  in  the  effort,  excited  all  her  own  fears, 
and  gave  irresistible  vividness  to  her  legend. 

"  How  can  his  hat  measure  people's  lands  in,  Aunty  ?'' 
asked  Virgie,  drawing  Roxy  to  her  by  the  waist  for  their 
mutual  protection. 

"  Why,  chile,  he  measures  land  in  by  cle  great  long 
shadows  dat  debbil's  hat  throws.  Meshach,  he  sots  his 
eyes  on  a  good  farm.  Says  he,  '  I'll  measure  dat  in  !' 
So  he  gits  out  dar  some  sun-up  or  sun-down,  when  de 
sun  jest  sots  a'mos'  on  de  groun,  an'  ebery  tree  an'  fence- 
pos'  and  standin'  thing  goes  away  over  de  land,  frowin' 
long  crooked  shadows.  Dat's  de  time  Meshach  stans 
up,  wid  dat  hat  de  debbil  gib  him  to  make  him  longer,  jest 
a  layin'  on  de  fields  like  de  shadow  of  a  big  church-steeple. 
He  walks  along  de  road  befo'  de  farm,  and  wherever  dat 
hat  makes  a  mark  on  cle  ground  all  between  it  an'  where 


54  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

he  walks  is  ole  Meshach's  land.     Dat's  what  he  calls  his 
mortgage !" 

The  children  had  their  mouths  wide  open ;  the  maids 
heard  with  faith  only  less  than  fear. 

"  But,  Aunt  Hominy,"  spoke  Roxy,  "  he  never  meas 
ured  in  Judge  Custis's  house,  and  all  of  us  in  it,  that  is 
to  be  sold." 

"Didn't  I  see  him  a  doin'  of  it?"  whispered  Aunt 
Hominy,  stooping  as  if  to  creep,  in  the  contraction  of  her 
own  fears,  and  looking  up  into  their  faces  with  her  fists 
clinched.  "He's  a  ben  comin'  along  cle  fence  on  de 
darkest,  cloudiest  nights  dis  long  a  time,  like  a  man  dat 
was  goin'  to  rob  something,  and  peepin'  up  at  Miss  Ves- 
sy's  window.  He  took  de  dark  nights,  when  cle  streets 
of  Prencess  Anne  was  clar  ob  folks,  an'  de  dogs  was  in 
deir  cribs,  an'  nuffin'  goin'  aroun'  but  him  an'  wind  an' 
cold  an'  rain.  One  night,  while  he  was  watchin'  Miss 
Vessy's  window  like  a  black  crow,  from  de  shadow  of  de 
tree,  I  was  a-watchin'  of  him  from  de  kitchen  window.  De 
moon,  dat  had  been  all  hid,  come  right  from  behin'  de 
rain-clouds  all  at  once,  gals,  an'  scared  him  like.  De 
moon  was  low  on  cle  woods,  chillen,  an'  as  ole  Meshach 
turned  an'  walked  away,  his  debbil's  shadow  swept  dis 
house  in.  He  measured  it  in  dat  night.  It's  ben  his 
ever  since." 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Roxy,  after  a  pause,  "I  know  I 
wouldn't  take  hold  of  that  hat  now." 

"  I  am  almost  afraid  to  look  at  it,"  said  Virgie,  "  but 
if  Miss  Vessy  told  me  to  go  bring  it  to  her,  I  would  do  it." 

"  Le's  us  all  go  together,"  ventured  Aunt  Hominy,  "and 
take  a  peep  at  it.  Maybe  it  won't  hurt  us,  if  we  all  go." 

Aware  that  Judge  Custis  and  his  wife  were  not  near, 
the  little  circle  of  servants — Aunt  Hominy,  Virgie,  Roxy, 
and  the  four  children,  from  five  to  fourteen  years  of  age 
—filed  softly  from  the  kitchen  through  the  covered  colon 
nade,  and  thence  along  the  back  passage  to  the  end  of  the 


THE    HAT   FINDS   A   RACK.  55 

hall,  where  they  made  a  group,  gazing  with  believing  won 
der  at  the  King  James  tile. 

*  *  *  Vesta  Custis,  having  changed  her  morning  robe 
for  a  walking-suit,  and  slightly  rearranged  her  toilet,  and 
knelt  speechless  awhile  to  receive  the  unknown  will  of 
Heaven,  came  down  the  stairs  at  last,  in  time  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  half-a-dozen  servants  staring  at  a  strange  old 
hat  on  the  hall  rack.  They  hastily  fled  at  her  appearance, 
but  the  idea  of  the  hat  was  also  conveyed  to  her  own  fancy 
by  their  unwonted  behavior.  She  looked  up  an  instant  at 
the  queer,  faded  article  hanging  among  its  betters,  and 
with  a  reminiscence  of  childhood,  and  of  having  held  it 
in  her  hand,  there  descended  along  the  intervening  years 
upon  the  association,  the  odor  of  a  rose  and  the  impres 
sion  of  a  pair  of  bold,  startled  eyes  gazing  into  hers.  She 
opened  the  library  door,  and  the  same  eyes  were  looking 
up  from  her  father's  easy-chair. 

"Mr.  Milburn,  I  believe?"  said  Vesta,  walking  to  the 
visitor,  and  extending  her  hand  with  native  sweetness. 

He  arose  and  bowed,  and  hardly  saw  the  hand  in  the 
earnest  look  he  gave  her,  as  if  she  had  surprised  him, 
and  he  did  not  know  how  to  express  his  bashfulness. 
She  did  not  withdraw  the  hand  till  he  took  it,  and  then 
he  did  not  let  it  go.  His  strong,  rather  than  bold,  look, 
continuing,  she  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  hand  that  mildly 
held  her  own,  and  then  she  observed,  all  calm  as  she  was, 
that  his  hand  was  a  gentleman's,  its  fingers  long  and  al 
most  delicate,  the  texture  white,  the  palm  warm,  and,  as 
it  seemed  to  her,  of  something  like  a  brotherly  pressure, 
respectful  and  gentle  too. 

As  he  did  not  speak  immediately,  Vesta  returned  to 
his  face,  far  less  inviting,  but  peculiar — the  black  hair 
straight,  the  cheek-bones  high,  no  real  beard  upon  him 
anywhere,  the  shape  of  the  face  broad  and  powerful,  and 
the  chops  long,  while  the  yellowish-brown  eyes,  wide  open 
and  intense,  answered  to  the  open,  almost  observant  nos- 


56  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

trils  at  the  end  of  his  straight,  fine  nose.  His  complex 
ion  was  dark  and  forester-like,  seeming  to  show  a  poor, 
unnutritious  diet.  He  was  hardly  taller  than  Vesta.  His 
teeth  were  good,  and  the  mouth  rather  small.  She  thought 
he  was  uncertain  what  to  say,  or  confused  in  his  mind, 
though  no  sign  of  fear  was  visible.  Vesta  came  to  his 
rescue,  withdrawing  her  hand  naturally. 

"  I  have  seen  you  many  times,  Mr.  Milburn,  but  never 
here,  I  think." 

"  No,  miss,  I  have  never  been  here."  He  hesitated. 
"Nor  anywhere  in  Princess  Anne.  You  are  the  first  lady 
here  to  speak  to  me." 

His  words,  but  not  his  tone,  intimated  an  inferiority 
or  a  slight.  The  voice  was  a  little  stiff,  appearing  to  be 
at  want  for  some  corresponding  inflection,  like  a  man  who 
had  learned  a  language  without  having  had  the  use  of  it. 

"  Will  you  sit,  Mr.  Milburn  ?  You  owe  this  visit  so 
long  that  you  will  not  be  in  haste  to-day.  I  hope  you 
have  not  felt  that  we  were  inhospitable.  But  little  towns 
often  encourage  narrow  circles,  and  make  people  more 
selfish  than  they  intend." 

"  You  could  never  be  selfish,  miss,"  said  Milburn,  with 
out  any  of  the  suavity  of  a  compliment,  still  carrying  that 
wild,  regarding  gaze,  like  the  eyes  of  a  startled  ox. 

Vesta  faintly  colored  at  the  liberty  he  took.  It  was 
slightly  embarrassing  to  her,  too,  to  meet  that  uninter- 
pretable  look  of  inquiry  and  homage  ;  but  she  felt  her  ne 
cessity  as  well  as  her  good-breeding,  and  made  allowance 
for  her  visitor's  want  of  sophistication.  He  was  like  an 
Indian  before  a  mirror,  in  a  stolid  excitement  of  appre 
hension  and  delight.  The  most  beautiful  thing  he  ever 
saw  was  within  the  compass  of  his  full  sight  at  last,  and 
whether  to  detain  it  by  force  or  persuasion  he  did  not  know. 

Her  dark  hair,  silky  as  the  cleanest  tassels  of  the  corn, 
fell  as  naturally  upon  her  perfect  head  as  her  teeth,  white 
as  the  milky  corn-rows,  moved  in  the  May  cherries  of  her 


THE    HAT    FINDS   A    RACK.  57 

lips.  The  delicate  arches  of  her  brows,  shaded  by  black 
birds'  wings,  enriched  the  clear  sky  of  her  harmonious 
eyes',  where  mercy  and  nobility  kept  company,  as  in 
heaven. 

"  How  could  you  know  I  was  unselfish,  Mr.  Milburn  ?" 
"  Because  I  have  heard  you  sing." 
"  Oh,  yes  !     You  hear  me  in  our  church,  I  remember." 
"  I  have  heard  you  every  Sunday  that  you  sung  there 
for  years,"  said  Meshach,  with  hardly  a  change  of  expres 
sion. 

"Are  you  fond  of  music,  Mr.  Milburn?" 
"Yes,  I  like  all  I  have  ever  heard — birds  and  you." 
"  I  will  sing  for  you,  then,"  said  Vesta,  taking  the  re 
lief  the  talk  directed  her  to.     A  piano  was  in  another 
room,  but,  to  avoid  changing  the  scene,  as  well  as  to  use 
a  simpler  accompaniment  for  an  ignorant  man's  ears,  she 
brought  her  guitar,  and,  placing  it  in  her  lap,  struck  the 
strings  and  the  key,  without  waiting,  to  these  tender  words : 

"  Oh,  for  some  sadly  dying  note, 
Upon  this  silent  hour  to  float, 
Where,  from  the  bustling  world  remote, 

The  lyre  might  wake  its  melody  ! 
One  feeble  strain  is  all  can  swell, 
From  mine  almost  deserted  shell, 
In  mournful  accents  yet  to  tell 

That  slumbers  not  its  minstrelsy. 

"  There  is  an  hour  of  deep  repose, 
That  yet  upon  my  heart  shall  close, 
When  all  that  nature  dreads  and  knows 

Shall  burst  upon  me  wondrously; 
Oh,  may  I  then  awake,  forever, 
My  harp  to  rapture's  high  endeavor ; 
And,  as  from  earth's  vain  scene  I  sever, 

Be  lost  in  Immortality." 

Vesta  ceased  a  few  minutes,  and,  her  visitor  saying  noth 
ing,  she  remarked,  with  emotion, 

"  Those  lines  were  written  at  my  grandfather's  house, 


58  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

in  Accomac  County,  by  a  young  clergyman  from  New 
York,  who  was  grandfather's  rector,  Rev.  James  East- 
burn.  He  was  only  twenty-two  years  old  when  he  died, 
at  sea,  of  consumption.  His  is  the  only  poetry  I  have 
ever  heard  of,  Mr.  Milburn,  written  in  our  beautiful  old 
country  here." 

"  I  wondered  if  I  should  ever  hear  you  sing  for  me," 
spoke  Milburn,  after  hesitation.  "Now  it  is  realized,  I 
feel  sceptical  about  it.  You  are  there,  Miss  Custis,  are 
you  not  ?" 

Vesta  was  puzzled.  Under  other  circumstances  she 
would  have  been  amused,  since  her  humor  could  flow 
freely  as  her  music.  It  faintly  seemed  to  her  that  the 
little  odd  man  might  be  cracked  in  the  head. 

"Yes,  indeed,  Mr.  Milburn.  If  it  were  a  dream,  I 
should  have  no  expression  all  this  day  but  song.  I  think 
I  never  felt  so  sad  to  sing  as  just  now.  Father  is  ill. 
Mamma  is  ill.  I  have  become  the  business  agent  of  the 
family,  and  have  heard  within  this  hour  that  papa  is  deep 
ly  involved.  You  are  his  creditor,  are  you  not?" 

Meshach  Milburn  bowed. 

"What  is  the  sum  of  papa's  notes  and  mortgages  ?  Is 
it  more  than  he  can  pay  by  the  sacrifice  of  everything?" 

"Yes.  He  has  nothing  to  sell  at  forced  sale  which 
will  bring  anything,  but  the  household  servants  here ; 
these  maids  in  the  family  are  marketable  immediately. 
You  would  not  like  to  sell  them  ?" 

"  Sell  Virgie !  She  was  brought  up  with  me ;  what 
right  have  I  to  sell  her  any  more  than  she  has  to  sell 
me  ?" 

*  "None,"  said  Milburn,  bluntly,  "but  there  is  law 
for  it." 

"  To  sell  Roxy,  too,  and  old  Aunt  Hominy,  and  the 
young  children  !  how  could  I  ever  pray  again  if  they 
were  sold  ?  Oh  !  Mr.  Milburn,  where  was  your  heart, 
to  let  papa  waste  his  plentiful  substance  in  such  a  hope- 


THE    HAT    FINDS   A   RACK.  59 

less  experiment?  If  my  singing  in  the  church  has  given 
you  happiness,  why  could  it  not  move  you  to  mercy? 
Think  of  the  despair  of  this  family,  my  father's  helpless 
generosity,  my  mother's  marriage  settlement  gone,  too, 
and  every  other  son  and  daughter  parted  from  them !" 

"  I  never  encouraged  one  moment  Judge  Custis's  ex 
penditure,"  said  Meshach,  "  though  I  lent  him  money. 
The  first  time  he  came  to  me  to  borrow,  my  mind  was  in 
a  liberal  disposition,  for  you  had  just  entered  it  with  your 
innocent  attentions.  I  supposed  he  wanted  a  temporary 
accommodation,  and  I  gave  it  to  him  at  the  lowest  rate 
one  Christian  would  charge  another." 

"You  say  that  I  influenced  you  to  lend  my  father 
money  ?  Why,  sir,  I  was  a  child.  He  has  been  borrow 
ing  from  you  since  my  earliest  recollections." 

The  creditor  took  from  his  breast-pocket  a  large  leather 
wallet,  and,  arising,  laid  its  contents  on  the  table.  He 
opened  a  piece  of  folded  paper,  and  drew  from  it  two  ob 
jects  ;  one  a  lock  of  blue-black  hair  like  his  own,  and  the 
other  a  pressed  and  faded  rose. 

"This  flower,"  said  Milburn,  with  reverence,  "Judge 
Custis's  daughter  fastened  in  my  derided  hat.  I  kept  it 
till  it  was  dead,  and  laid  it  away  with  my  mother's  hair, 
the  two  religious  objects  of  my  life.  That  faded  rose 
made  me  your  father's  creditor,  Miss  Custis." 

Vesta  took  the  rose,  and  looked  at  him  with  surprise 
and  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  why  did  not  this  flower  speak  for  us  ?"  she  said  ; 
"to  open  your  lips  after  that,  to  save  my  father?  Then 
you  informed  yourself,  and  knew  that  he  was  hurrying  to 
destruction,  but  still  you  gave  him  money  at  higher  in 
terest." 

Milburn  looked  at  her  with  diminished  courage,  but 
sincerity,  and  answered  :  "  Your  voice  sang  between  us, 
Miss  Custis,  every  time  he  came.  I  did  not  admit  to 
myself  what  it  was,  but  the  feeling  that  I  was  being 


60  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

drawn  near  you  still  opened  my  purse  to  your  father, 
till  he  has  drained  me  of  the  profits  of  years,  which  I 
gave  him  with  a  lavish  fatality,  though  grasping  every 
cent  from  every  source  but  that.  I  did  know,  then,  he 
could  not  probably  repay  me,  but  every  Sabbath  at  the 
church  you  sang,  and  that  seemed  some  compensation. 
I  was  bewitched  ;  indistinct  visions  of  gratitude  and  rec 
ognition  from  you  filled  the  preaching  with  concourses 
of  angels,  all  bearing  your  image,  and  hovering  above  me. 
The  price  I  paid  for  that  un uttered  and  ever-repelled 
hope  has  been  princely,  but  never  grudged,  and  it  has 
been  pure,  I  believe,  or  Heaven  would  have  punished  me. 
The  more  I  ruined  myself  for  your  father,  the  more  suc 
cessful  my  ventures  were  in  all  other  places  ;  if  you  were 
my  temptation,  it  had  the  favor  or  forgiveness  of  the  God 
in  whose  temple  it  was  born." 

Vesta  arose  also,  with  a  frightened  spirit. 

"  Do  I  understand  you  ?"  she  said,  with  her  rich  gray 
eyes  wide  open  under  their  startled  lashes.  "  My  father 
has  spoken  of  a  degrading  condition  ?  Is  it  to  love 
you  ?" 

For  the  first  time  Meshach  Milburn  dropped  his  eyes. 

"  I  never  supposed  it  possible  for  you  to  love  me,"  he 
said,  bitterly.  "  I  thought  God  might  permit  me  some 
day  to  love  you." 

"  Do  you  know  what  love  is  ?"  asked  Vesta,  with  as 
tonishment. 

"No." 

"  How  came  you,  then,  to  be  interpreting  my  good  acts 
so  basely,  carrying  even  my  childhood  about  in  your  evil 
imagination,  and  cursing  my  father's  sorrow  with  the 
threat  of  his  daughter's  slavery  ?" 

Milburn  heard  with  perfect  humility  these  hard  impu 
tations. 

"  You  have  not  loved,  I  think,  Miss  Custis  ?"  he  said, 
with  a  slight  flush.  "I  have  believed  you  never  did." 


THE    HAT   FINDS   A    RACK.  6 1 

He  raised  his  eyes  again  to  her  face. 

"  I  loved  my  father  above  everything,"  faltered  Vesta. 
"  I  saw  no  man,  besides,  admiring  my  father." 

"Then  I  displaced  no  man's  right,  coveting  your  image. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  you  were  being  kept  free  so  long  to 
reward  my  silent  worship.  I  do  not  know  what  love  is, 
but  I  know  the  gifts  of  God,  as  they  bloom  in  nature, 
repel  no  man's  devotion.  The  flowers,  the  birds,  and  the 
forest, delighted  my  childhood;  my  youth  was  spent  in  the 
study  of  myself  and  man  ;  at  last  a  beautiful  child  ap 
peared  to  me,  spoke  her  way  to  my  soul,  and  it  could 
never  expel  her  glorious  presence.  All  things  became 
subordinate  to  her,  even  avarice  and  success.  She  kept 
me  a  Christian,  or  I  should  have  become  utterly  selfish; 
she  kept  me  humble,  for  what  was  my  wealth  when  I 
could  not  enter  her  father's  house !  I  am  here  by  a  des 
tiny  now ;  the  power  that  called  you  to  this  room,  so  un 
expectedly  to  me,  has  borne  us  onward  to  the  secret  I 
dreaded  to  speak  to  you.  Dare  I  go  further  ?" 

She  was  trying  to  keep  down  her  insulted  feelings,  and 
not  say  something  that  should  forever  exasperate  her  fa 
ther's  creditor,  but  the  possibility  of  marrying  him  was 
too  tremendous  to  reply. 

"This  moment  is  a  great  one,"  continued  Milburn, 
firmly,  "for  I  feel  that  it  is  to  terminate  my  visions  of 
happiness,  and  of  kindness  as  well.  You  have  expressed 
yourself  so  indignantly,  that  I  see  no  thought  of  me  has 
ever  lodged  in  your  mind.  Why  should  it  have  ever 
done  so?  Though  I  almost  dreamed  it  had,  because  you 
filled  my  life  so  many  years  with  your  rich  image,  I 
thought  you  might  have  felt  me,  like  an  apparition,  steal 
ing  around  this  dwelling  often  in  the  dark  and  rain,  con 
tent  with  the  ray  of  light  your  window  threw  upon  the 
deserted  street.  Now  I  see  that  I  was  a  weak  dunce, 
whose  passion  nature  lent  no  nerve  of  hers  to  convey 
even  to  your  notice.  Better  for  me  that  I  had  hugged 


62  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

the  debasing  reality  of  my  gold,  and  lost  my  eyes  to  ev 
erything  but  its  comfort !" 

He  looked  towards  the  door.  Vesta  sat  down  in  the 
fairy  rocker,  and  detained  him. 

"You  have  told  me  the  feeling  you  think  you  had, 
Mr.  Milburn.  Poor  as  we  Custises  are  now,  it  will  not 
do  to  be  proud.  How  did  you  ever  think  that  feeling 
could  be  returned  by  me  ?  My  youth,  my  connections, 
everything,  would  forbid  me,  without  haughtiness,  to  see 
a  suitor  in  you.  Then,  you  took  no  means  to  turn  my  at 
tention  towards  you.  You  could  have  been  neighborly, 
had  you  desired.  You  did  not  not  even  wear  the  com 
monest  emblems  of  a  lover — " 

She  paused.     Milburn  said  to  himself: 

"  Ah  !  that  accursed  Hat." 

The  interruption  ruffled  his  temper : 

"I  have  had  reasons,  also  proud,  Miss  Custis,  to  be 
consistent  with  my  perpetual  self  here.  I  will  put  the 
substantial  merits  of  my  case  to  you,  since  I  see  that  I 
am  not  likely  to  make  myself  otherwise  attractive.  This 
house  is  already  mine.  The  law  will,  in  a  few  weeks,  put 
me  in  possession  of  your  father's  entire  property.  I  shall 
change  outward  circumstances  with  him  in  Princess  Anne. 
He  is  too  old  to  adopt  my  sacrifices,  and  recover  his  situa 
tion  ;  he  may  find  some  shifting  refuge  with  his  sons  and 
daughters,  but,  even  if  his  spirit  could  brook  that  depend 
ence,  it  would  be  very  unnecessary,  when,  by  marrying  his 
creditor,  you  can  retain  everything  he  now  has  to  make 
his  family  respectable.  I  offer  you  his  estate  as  your 
marriage  portion  !" 

He  took  up  from  the  table  the  notes  her  father  had 
negotiated,  and  laid  them  in  her  lap. 

Vesta  sat  rocking  slowly,  and  deeply  agitated.  She 
had  in  her  mouth  the  comfort  and  honor  of  her  parents, 
which  she  could  confer  in  a  single  word.  It  was  a  re 
sponsibility  so  mighty  that  it  made  her  tremble. 


THE   HAT   FINDS   A    RACK.  63 

"Oh!  what  shall  I  say?"  she  thought.  "It  will  be  a 
sin  to  say  '  Yes.'  To  say  '  No '  would  be  a  crime." 

"You  shall  retain  every  feature  of  your  home — your 
servants,  your  mother,  and  her  undiminished  portion  ; 
your  liberty  in  the  fullest  sense.  I  will  contribute  to 
send  your  father  to  the  legislature  or  to  congress,  to  sus 
tain  his  pride,  and  keep  him  well  occupied.  The  Furnace 
he  may  appear  to  have  sold  to  me,  and  I  will  accept  the 
unpopularity  of  closing  it.  I  ask  only  to  serve  you,  and 
inhabit  your  daily  life,  like  one  of  these  negroes  you  are 
kind  to,  and  if  I  am  ever  harsh  to  you,  Miss  Vesta,  I 
swear  to  surrender  you  to  your  family,  and  depart  for 
ever." 

Vesta  shook  her  head. 

"  There  is  no  separation  but  one,"  she  said,  "  when 
Heaven  has  been  called  down  to  the  marriage  solemnity. 
It  is  before  that  act  that  we  must  consider  everything. 
How  could  I  make  you  happy?  My  own  happiness  I 
will  dismiss.  Yours  must  then  comprehend  mine.  Kind- 
*ness  might  make  me  grateful,  but  gratitude  will  not  sat 
isfy  your  love." 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Milburn,  chasing  up  his  advantage 
with  tremulous  ardor;  "the  long  famine  of  my  heart  will 
be  thankful  for  a  dry  crust  and  a  cup  of  ice.  Here  at 
the  fireside  let  me  sit  and  warm,  and  hear  the  rustle  of 
your  dress,  and  grow  in  heavenly  sensibility.  You  will 
redeem  a  savage,  you  will  save  a  soul !" 

"  It  is  not  the  price  I  must  pay  to  do  this,  I  would 
have  you  consider,  sir,"  Vesta  replied,  with  her  attention 
somewhat  arrested  by  his  intensity  ;  "it  is  the  price  you 
are  paying — your  self-respect,  perhaps — by  the  terms  on 
which  you  obtain  me.  It  may  never  be  known  out  of 
this  family  that  I  married  you  for  the  sake  of  my  father 
and  mother.  But  how  am  I  to  prevent  you  from  remem 
bering  it,  especially  when  you  say  that  I  am  the  sum 
of  your  purest  wishes?  If  your  interest  would  consume 


64  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

after  you  obtained  me,  we  might,  at  least,  be  indifferent; 
but  if  it  grew  into  real  love,  would  you  not  often  accuse 
yourself?" 

Meshach  Milburn  sat  down,  cast  his  large  brown  eyes 
upon  the  floor,  and  listened  in  painful  reflection. 

"  You  cannot  conceive  I  have  had  any  real  love  for 
you  ?"  he  exclaimed,  dubiously. 

"  You  have  seen  me,  and  desired  me  for  your  wife ; 
that  is  all,"  said  Vesta,  "  that  I  can  imagine.  Lawless 
power  could  do  that  anywhere.  To  be  an  obedient  wife 
is  the  lot  of  woman  ;  but  love,  such  as  you  have  some 
glimmering  of,  is  a  mystic  instinct  so  mutual,  so  gladden 
ing,  yet  so  free,  that  the  captivity  you  set  me  in  to  make 
me  sing  to  you  will  divide  us  like  the  wires  of  a  cage." 

"  There  is  no  bird  I  ever  caught,"  said  Meshach  Mil- 
burn,  "  that  did  not  learn  to  trust  me.  Your  comparison 
does  not,  therefore,  discourage  me.  And  you  have  al 
ready  sung  for  me,  the  saddest  day  of  your  life !" 

A  slight  touch  of  nature  in  this  revelation  of  her  strange 
suitor  called  Vesta's  attention  to  the  study  of  him  again. 
With  her  intelligence  and  sense  of  higher  worth  coming 
to  her  rescue,  she  thought :  "  Let  me  see  all  that  is  of 
this  Tartar,  for,  perhaps,  there  may  be  another  way  to 
his  mercy." 

As  she  recovered  composure,  however,  she  grew  more 
beautiful  in  his  sight,  her  dark,  peerless  charms  filling  the 
room,  her  kindling  eyes  conveying  love,  her  skin  like  the 
wild  plum's,  and  her  raven  brows  and  crown  of  luxuriant 
hair  rising  upon  a  queenly  presence  worthy  of  an  em 
press's  throne.  Such  beauty  almost  made  Milburn  afraid, 
but  the  energies  of  his  character  were  all  concentred  to 
secure  it. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  calm,  searching 
look,  cast  from  her  highest  self-respect  and  alert  intelli 
gence.  "Have  you  any  relations  or  connections  fit  to 
bring  here — to  this  house,  to  me  ?" 


THE   HAT   FINDS   A   RACK.  65 

< 

"Not  one  that  I  know,"  said  the  forester.  "I  am 
nothing  but  myself,  and  what  you  will  make  of  me." 

"  Where  were  you  born  and  reared  ?" 

"  The  house  does  not  stand  which  witnessed  that  mis 
ery,"  spoke  Milburn,  with  a  flush  of  obdurate  pride  ;  "  it 
was  burned  last  night,  not  far  from  the  furnace  which 
swallowed  your  father's  substance." 

"  Why,  I  would  be  afraid  of  you,  Mr.  Milburn,  if  your 
errand  here  was  not  so  practical.  Omens  and  wonders 
surround  you.  Birds  forget  their  natural  life  for  you. 
Iron  ceases  to  be  occult  when  you  take  it  up.  Your 
birthplace  in  this  world  disappears  by  fire  the  night  before 
you  foreclose  a  mortgage  upon  a  gentleman's  daughter. 
Is  all  this  sorcery  inseparable  from  that  necromancer's 
Hat  you  wear  in  Princess  Anne  ?" 

She  had  touched  the  sensitive  topic  by  a  skilful  ap 
proach,  yet  he  changed  color,  as  if  the  allusion  piqued 
him. 

"  Nature  never  rebuked  my  hat,  Miss  Vesta,  and  you 
are  so  like  nature,  it  will  not  occupy  your  thoughts.  I 
recollect  the  day  you  decorated  my  old  hat ;  said  I :  '  per 
haps  this  vagrant  head-covering,  after  all  its  injuries  and 
wanderings,  may  some  day  find  a  peg  beneath  my  own 
roof,  and  the  kind  welcome  of  a  lady  like  that  little  miss/ 
That  was  several  years  ago,  and  to-day,  for  the  first  time, 
my  hat  is  on  the  rack  of  your  hall.  The  long  wish  of  the 
heart  is  not  often  denied.  We  are  not  responsible  for  it. 
The  only  conspiracy  I  have  plotted  here,  was  that  I  did 
not  oppose  most  natural  occurrences,  all  drawing  towards 
this  scene.  My  magic  was  hope  and  humility.  I  dared 
to  wear  my  ancestor's  hat  in  the  face  of  a  contemptuous 
and  impertinent  provincial  public,  and  it  gave  me  the 
pride  to  persevere  till  I  should  bring  it  home  to  honors 
and  to  noble  shelter.  If  you  despise  my  hat,  you  will 
despise  me." 

"Oh,  no;  Mr.  Milburn!  I  try  never  to  despise  any- 
5 


66  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

thing.  If  you  wore  your  family  hat  from  some  filial  re 
spect,  it  was,  in  part,  piety.  But  was  that,  indeed,  your 
motive  in  being  so  eccentric  ?" 

Milburn  felt  uneasy  again.     He  hesitated,  and  said : 

"  In  perfect  truth,  I  fear  not.  There  may  have  been 
something  of  revenge  in  my  mind.  I  had  been  grossly 
insulted." 

"  Is  it  not  something  of  that  revenge  which  instigates 
you  here — even  in  this  profession  of  love?"  exclaimed 
Vesta,  judicially. 

Meshach  looked  up,  and  the  shadows  cleared  from  his 
face. 

"I  can  answer  that  truthfully,  lady.  Towards  you, 
not  an  indignant  thought  has  ever  harbored  in  my  brain. 
It  has  been  the  opposite :  protection,  worship,  tender 
sensibility." 

"  Has  that  exceptional  charity  extended  to  my  father  ?" 

"  No." 

Vesta  would  have  been  exasperated,  but  for  his  candor. 

"My  father  never  insulted  you,  sir?" 

"No, he  patronized  me.  He  meant  no  harm,  but  that 
old  hat  has  worn  a  deep  place  in  my  brain  through  carry 
ing  it  so  long,  and  it  is  a  subject  that  galls  me  to  men 
tion  it.  Yet,  I  must  be  consistent  with  my  only  eccen 
tricity.  Wherever  I  may  go,  there  goes  my  hat ;  it 
makes  my  identity,  my  inflexibility  ;  it  achieves  my  prom 
ise  to  myself,  that  men  shall  respect  my  hat  before  I 
die." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Vesta,  not  uninterested  in  his 
character, "  I  can  understand  an  eccentricity  founded  on 
family  respect.  We  were  Virginians,  and  that  is  next  to 
religion  there.  The  negroes  of  our  family  share  it  with 
us.  You  had  a  family,  then  ?" 

Milburn  shook  his  head. 

"  No ;  not  a  family  in  the  sense  you  mean.  Genera 
tions  of  obscurity,  a  parentage  only  virtuous ;  no  tomb- 


THE    HAT    FINDS    A    RACK.  67 

stone  anywhere,  no  crest  nor  motto,  not  even  a  self-delud 
ing  lie  of  some  former  gentility,  shaped  from  hand  to 
hand  till  it  commits  a  larceny  on  history,  and  is  brazen 
on  a  carriage  panel !  We  were  foresters.  We  came 
forth  and  existed  and  perished,  like  the  families  of  ants 
upon  the  ant-hills  of  sand.  We  migrated  no  more  than 
the  woodpeckers  in  your  sycamore  trees,  and  made  no 
sound  in  events  more  than  their  insectivorous  tapping. 
Out  yonder  beyond  Dividing  Creek,  in  the  thickets  of 
small  oak  and  low  pines,  many  a  little  farm,  scratched 
from  the  devouring  forest,  speckling  the  plains  and  wastes 
with  huts  and  with  little  barns  of  logs,  once  bore  the 
name  of  Milburn  through  all  the  localities  of  the  Poco- 
moke  to  and  beyond  the  great  Cypress  Swamp.  They 
are  dying,  but  never  dead.  The  few  who  live  expect  no 
recognition  from  me,  and,  happy  in  their  poverty,  envy 
me  nothing  I  have  accumulated.  My  name  has  grown 
hard  to  them,  my  hat  is  the  subject  of  their  superstitions, 
my  ambition  and  success  have  lost  me  their  sympathy 
without  giving  me  any  other  social  compensation.  You 
behold  a  desperate  man,  a  merciless  creditor,  a  tussock 
of  ore  from  the  bogs  of  Nassawongo,  yet  one  whose  only 
crimes  have  been  to  adore  you,  and  to  wear  his  fore 
fathers'  hat." 

"Is  this  pride,  then,  wholly  insulted  sensibility,  Mr. 
Milburn?" 

"  I  cannot  say,  Miss  Custis.  You  may  smile,  but  I 
think  it  is  aristocracy." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  exclaimed  Vesta  reflectively  ;  "  you 
are  a  proud  man.  My  father,  who  has  had  reason  to  be 
proud,  is  less  an  aristocrat,  sir,  than  you." 

Milburn's  flush  came  and  stayed  a  considerable  while. 
He  was  not  displeased  at  Vesta's  compliment,  though  it 
bore  the  nature  of  an  accusation. 

"You  are  aristocratic,"  explained  Vesta,  "because  you 
adopted  the  obsolete  hat  of  your  people.  Whatever 


68 


THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 


vanity  led  you  to  do  it,  it  was  the  satisfaction  of  some 
origin,  I  think." 

She  checked  herself,  seeing  that  she  was  entering  into 
his  affairs  with  too  much  freedom. 

"  I  suppose  that  somewhere,  some  time,"  spoke  the 
strange  visitor,  "  some  person  of  my  race  has  been  in 
fluential  and  prosperous.  Indeed,  I  have  been  told  so* 
He  was  elevated  to  both  the  magistracy  and  the  scaf 
fold,  but  my  hat  had  even  an  older  origin." 

"Tell  me  about  that  ancestor,"  said  Vesta,  the  heart 
ache  from  his  greater  errand  instigating  her  to  defer  it, 
while  she  was  yet  barely  conscious  that  the  man  was 
original,  if  not  interesting. 

He  told  a  singular  tale,  tracing  his  hat  to  Raleigh's 
times  and  through  Sir  Henry  Vane  to  America,  till  it 
became  the  property  of  Jacob  Milborne,  the  popular 
martyr  who  was  executed  in  New  York,  and  his  brethren 
driven  into  Maryland,  bringing  with  them  the  harmless 
hat  as  their  only  patrimony.* 

Before  he  began,  Milburn  drew  up  his  compact  little 
figure  and  opened  the  door  to  the  hall.  The  wind  or 
air  from  some  of  the  large,  cold  apartments  of  the  long 
house,  coming  in  by  some  crack  or  open  sash,  gave  al 
most  a  shriek,  and  scattered  the  fire  in  the  chimney. 

Vesta  felt  her  blood  chill  a  moment  as  her  visitor  re- 
entered  with  the  antediluvian  hat,  and  placed  it  upon 
the  table  beneath  the  lamp. 

It  had  that  look  of  gentility  victorious  over  decay, 
which  suggested  the  mummy  of  some  Pharaoh,  brought 
into  a  drawing-room  on  a  learned  society's  night.  Vesta 
repressed  a  smile,  rising  through  her  pain,  at  the  gravity 
of  the  forester  guest,  who  was  about  to  demonstrate  his 
aristocracy  through  this  old  hat.  It  seemed  to  her,  also, 

*  In  the  original  manuscript  a  circumstantial  story,  as  taken  from 
Milburn 's  lips,  was  preserved.  The  "  Tales  of  a  Hat "  may  be  sep 
arately  published. 


HA  !    HA  !    THE    WOOING   ON'T.  69 

that  the  portraits  of  the  Custises,  on  the  wall,  carried  in 
dignant  noses  in  the  air  at  their  apparently  conscious 
knowledge  of  the  presence  of  some  unburied  pretender, 
as  if,  in  Westminster  Abbey,  the  effigies  of  the  Norman 
kings  had  slightly  aroused  to  feel  Oliver  Cromwell  lying 
among  them  in  state. 

The  hat,  Vesta  perceived,  was  Flemish,  such  as  was 
popular  in  England  while  the  Netherlands  was  her  ally 
against  the  house  of  Spain,  and,  stripped  of  its  ornaments, 
was  lengthened  into  the  hat  of  the  Puritans. 

Vesta  attempted  to  exert  her  liberality  and  perceive 
some  beauty  in  this  hat,  but  the  utmost  she  could  admit 
was  the  tyranny  of  fashion  over  the  mind — it  seemed, 
over  the  soul  itself,  for  this  old  hat,  inoffensive  as  it  was, 
weighed  down  her  spirits  like  a  diving-bell. 

The  man,  without  his  hat,  had  somewhat  redeemed 
himself  from  low  conversation  and  ideas,  but  now,  that 
he  brought  this  hat  in  and  associated  his  person  with  it, 
she  shrank  from  him  as  if  he  had  been  a  triple-hatted 
Jew,  peddling  around  the  premises. 

The  obnoxious  hat  also  exercised  some  exciting  influ 
ence  over  Meshach  Milburn,  if  his  changed  manner 
could  be  ascribed  to  that  article,  for  he  resumed  his 
strong,  wild-man's  stare,  deepened  and  lowered  his  voice, 
and  without  waiting  for  any  query  or  expression  of  his 
listener,  told  the  tale. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
HA!  HA!  THE  WOOING  ON'T. 

IT  was  twilight  when  Meshach  Milburn  closed  his 
story,  and  silence  and  pallid  eve  drew  together  in  the 
Custis  sitting-room,  resembling  the  two  people  there, 
thinking  on  matrimony,  the  one  grave  as  conscious  ser- 


70  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

penthood  could  make  him,  the  other  fluttering  like  the 
charmed  bird.     Vesta  spoke  first : 

"  How  intense  must  be  your  head  to  create  so  many 
objects  around  it  within  the  world  of  a  hat !  You  have 
only  brought  the  story  down  a  little  way  towards  our 
times." 

"  I  began  the  tale  of  Raleigh  out  of  proportion,"  said 
Milburn,  "  and  it  grew  upon  the  same  scale,  like  the  pas 
sion  I  conceived  for  you  so  intensely  at  the  outset,  that 
in  the  climax  of  this  night  I  am  scarcely  begun." 

"Yet,  like  Raleigh,  I  see  the  scaffold,"  said  Vesta, 
with  an  attempt  at  humor  that  for  the  first  time  broke 
her  down,  and  she  raised  her  hands  to  her  face  to  hush 
the  burst  of  anguish.  It  would  not  be  repressed,  and  one 
low  cry,  deep  with  the  sense  of  desertion  and  captivity, 
sounded  through  the  deepening  room  and  smote  Mil- 
burn's  innermost  heart.  He  obeyed  an  impulse  he  had 
not  felt  since  his  mother  died,  starting  towards  Vesta 
and  throwing  his  arms  around  her,  and  drawing  her  to 
his  breast. 

"Honey,  honey,"  he  whispered,  kissing  her  like  a 
child,  "don't  cry  now,  honey.  It  will  break  my  heart." 

The  act  of  nature  seldom  is  misinterpreted ;  Vesta, 
having  labored  so  long  alone  with  this  obdurate  man, 
her  young  faculties  of  the  head  strained  by  the  first  en 
counter  beyond  her  strength,  accepted  the  friendship  of 
his  sympathy  and  contrition,  as  if  he  had  been  her  father. 
In  a  few  moments  the  paroxysm  of  grief  was  past,  and 
she  disengaged  his  arms. 

"You  are  not  merciless,"  said  Vesta.  "Tell  me  what 
I  must  do!  You  have  broken  my  father  down  and  he 
cannot  come  to  my  help.  Take  pity  on  my  inequality 
and  advise  me !" 

"Alas!  child,"  said  Milburn,  "my  advice  must  be  in 
my  own  interest,  though  I  wish  I  could  find  your  confi 
dence.  I  am  a  poor  creature,  and  do  not  know  how.  It 


HA!   HA!  THE  WOOING  ON'T.  71 

is  you  who  must  encourage  the  faith  I  feel  starting  some 
where  in  this  room,  like  a  chimney  swallow  that  would 
fain  fly  out.  Chirrup,  chirrup  to  it,  and  it  may  come  !" 

Standing  a  moment,  trying  to  collect  her  thoughts  and 
wholly  failing,  Vesta  accepted  the  confidence  he  held  out 
to  her  with  open  arms.  Blushing  as  she  had  never 
blushed  in  her  life,  though  he  could  not  know  it  in  the 
evening  dark,  she  walked  to  him  and  kissed  him  once. 

"  Will  that  encourage  you  to  advise  me  like  a  friend  ?" 
she  said. 

"Alas!  no,"  sighed  Milburn  fervently,  "it  makes  me 
the  more  your  unjust  lover.  I  cannot  advise  you  away 
from  me.  Oh,  let  me  plead  for  myself.  I  love  you  !" 

"Then  what  shall  I  do,"  exclaimed  Vesta,  in  low  tones, 
"  if  you  are  unable  to  rise  to  the  height  of  my  friend, 
and  my  father  is  your  slave  ?  Do  you  think  God  can 
bless  your  prosperity,  when  you  are  so  hard  with  your 
debtor  ?  On  me  the  full  sacrifice  falls,  though  I  never 
was  in  your  debt  consciously,  and  I  have  never  to  my 
remembrance  wished  injury  to  any  one." 

"Would  you  accept  your  father's  independence  at  the 
expense  of  the  most  despised  man  in  Princess  Anne  ?" 
Milburn  spoke  without  changing  his  kind  tone.  "Would 
you  let  me  give  him  the  fruit  of  many  years  of  hard  toil 
and  careful  saving,  in  order  that  I  shall  be  disappointed 
in  the  only  motive  of  assisting  him — the  honorable  woo 
ing  of  his  daughter  ?" 

She  felt  her  pride  rising. 

"Your  father's  debts  to  me  are  tens  of  thousands  of 
dollars,"  continued  Milburn.  "  Do  you  ask  me  to  pre 
sent  that  sum  to  you,  and  retire  to  my  loneliness  out  of 
this  bright  light  of  home  and  family,  warmth  and  music, 
that  you  have  made  ?  That  is  the  test  you  put  my  love 
to  :  banishment  from  you.  Will  you  ask  it  ?" 

"  I  have  not  asked  for  your  money,  sir,"  said  Vesta. 
"  Yet  I  have  heard  of  Love  doing  as  much  as  that,  re- 


72  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

lieving  the  anguish  of  its  object,  and  finding  sufficient  joy 
in  the  self-denying  deed." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  personally  know  of  any  such  case, 
though  you  may  have  read  it  in  a  novel  or  tract.  Men 
have  died,  and  left  a  fortune  they  could  no  longer  keep, 
to  some  cherished  lady ;  or  they  have  made  a  consider 
able  sacrifice  for  a  beautiful  and  noble  woman ;  but 
where  did  you  ever  hear,  Miss  Vesta,  of  a  famished  lover, 
surrendering  every  endowment  that  might  win  the  peer 
less  one,  to  be  himself  returned  to  his  sorrow,  tortured 
still  by  love,  and  by  his  neighbors  ridiculed  ?  What 
would  Princess  Anne  say  of  me  ?  That  I  had  been  made 
a  fool  of,  and  hurl  new  epithets  after  my  hat  ?" 

Vesta  searched  her  mind,  thinking  she  must  alight 
upon  some  such  example  there,  but  none  suited  the  case. 
Meshach  took  advantage  of  her  silence  : 

"  The  gifts  of  a  lover  are  everywhere  steps  to  love, 
as  I  have  understood.  He  makes  his  impression  with 
them ;  they  are  expected.  Nothing  creates  happiness 
like  a  gift,  and  it  is  an  old  saying  that  blessings  await 
him  who  gives,  and  also  her  who  takes,  and  that  to  seek 
and  ask  and  knock  are  praiseworthy." 

"  Oh,"  said  Vesta,  "  but  to  be  bought,  Mr.  Milburn  ? 
To  be  weighed  against  a  father's  debts — is  it  not  degrad 
ing?" 

"Not  where  such  respect  and  cherishing  as  mine  will 
be.  Rather  exalt  yourself  as  more  valuable  to  a  miser 
than  his  whole  lendings,  and  greater  than  all  your  father's 
losses  as  an  equivalent,  and  even  then  putting  your  hus 
band  in  debt,  being  so  much  richer  than  his  account." 

"  Where  will  be  my  share  of  love  in  this  world,  mar 
ried  so  ?"  asked  Vesta.  "  To  love  is  the  globe  itself  to 
a  woman,  her  youth  the  mere  atmosphere  thereof,  her 
widowhood  the  perfume  of  that  extinguished  star ;  and  all 
my  mind  has  been  alert  to  discover  the  image  I  shall 
serve,  the  bright  youth  ready  for  me,  looking  on  one 


HA  !    HA  !   THE   WOOING   ON'T.  73 

after  another  to  see  if  it  might  be  he,  and  suddenly  you 
hold  between  me  and  my  faith  a  paper  with  my  father's 
obligations,  and  say :  '  Here  is  your  fate ;  this  is  your 
whole  romance ;  you  are  foreclosed  upon  !'  How  are  you 
to  take  a  withered  heart  like  that  and  find  glad  compan 
ionship  in  it  ?  No,  you  will  be  disappointed.  It  will  re 
coil  upon  me  that  I  sold  myself." 

"The  image  you  waited  for  may  have  come,"  said  Mil- 
burn  undauntedly,  "  even  in  me ;  for  love  often  springs 
from  an  ambush,  nor  can  you  prepare  the  heart  for  it 
like  a  field.  I  recollect  a  fable  I  read  of  a  god  loving 
a  woman,  and  he  burst  upon  her  in  a  shower  of  gold ; 
and  what  was  that  but  a  rich  man's  wooing  ?  We  get 
gold  to  equalize  nobility  in  women ;  beauty  is  luxurious, 
and  demands  adornment  and  a  rich  setting ;  the  richest 
man  in  Princess  Anne  is  not  good  enough  for  you,  and 
the  mere  boys  your  mind  has  been  filled  with  are  more 
unworthy  of  being  your  husband  than  the  humble  creditor 
of  your  father.  Such  a  creation  as  Miss  Vesta  required  a 
special  sacrifice  and  success  in  the  character  of  her  hus 
band.  The  annual  life  of  this  peninsula  could  not  match 
you,  and  a  monster  had  to  be  raised  to  carry  you  away." 

"  You  are  not  exactly  a  monster,"  Vesta  remarked, 
with  natural  compassion,  "  and  you  compliment  me  so 
warmly  that  it  relieves  the  strain  of  this  encounter  a  lit 
tle.  Do  not  draw  a  woman's  attention  to  your  defects, 
as  she  might  otherwise  be  charmed  by  your  voice." 

"  That  also  is  a  part  of  my  sacrifice,"  said  Meshach, 
"  like  the  money  which  I  have  accumulated.  Without  a 
teacher,  but  love  and  hope,  I  have  educated  myself  to  be 
fit  to  talk  to  you.  It  is  all  crude  now,  like  a  crow  that  I 
have  taught  to  speak,  but  encouragement  will  make  me 
confident  and  saucy,  and  you  will  forget  my  sable  rai 
ment — even  my  hat." 

A  chilliness  seemed  to  attend  this  conclusion,  and 
Vesta  touched  her  bell.  Virgie,  entering,  took  her  mis- 


74  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

tress's  instructions  :  "  Bring  a  tray  and  tea,  and  lights,  and 
place  Mr.  Milburn's  hat  upon  the  rack !" 

The  girl  glanced  at  the  antique  hat  with  a  timid  light 
in  her  eye,  but  her  mistress's  head  was  turned  as  if  to  in 
timate  that  she  must  take  it,  though  it  might  be  red-hot. 
Virgie  obeyed,  and  soon  brought  in  the  tea. 

"  It  is  good  tea,"  spoke  Milburn,  drinking  not  from 
the  cup,  but  the  saucer,  while  Vesta  observed  him  oddly, 
"  and  it  is  chill  this  evening.  Let  me  start  your  fire  I" 

He  shivered  a  little  as  he  stood  up  and  walked  across 
the  room,  and  poking  the  charred  logs  into  a  flame ;  and, 
setting  on  more  wood,  he  made  the  walls  spring  into  yel 
low  flashes,  between  which  Vesta  saw  her  forefathers  dart 
cold  glances  at  her,  in  their  gilt  frames — yet  how  helpless 
they  were,  with  all  their  respectability,  to  take  her  body 
or  her  father's  honor  out  of  pawn  !— and  she  felt  for  the 
first  time  the  hollowness  of  family  power,  except  in  the 
ever -preserved  mail  of  a  solvent  posterity.  She  also 
made  a  long,  careful  survey  of  her  suitor,  to  see  if  there 
was  any  apology  for  him  as  a  husband. 

His  figure  was  short,  but  with  strength  and  elasticity 
in  it ;  better  clothes  might  fit  him  daintily,  and  Vesta  re 
dressed  him  in  fancy  with  lavender  kids  upon  his  small 
hands,  a  ring  upon  his  long  little  finger,  a  carnelian  seal 
and  a  ribbon  at  his  fob-pocket,  and  ruffles  in  his  shirt- 
bosom.  In  place  of  his  dull  cloth  suit,  she  would  give 
him  a  buff  vest  and  pearl  buttons  with  eyelet  rings,  and 
white  gaiters  instead  of  those  shabby  green  things  over 
his  feet,  and  put  upon  his  head  a  neat  silk  hat  with  nar 
row  brim  to  raise  his  height  slenderly,  and  let  a  coat  of 
olive  or  dark-blue,  and  trousers  of  the  same  color,  relieve 
his  ornaments.  Thus  transformed,  Vesta  could  conceive 
a  peculiar  yet  a  passable  man,  whom  a  lady  might  grow 
considerate  towards  by  much  praying  and  striving,  and 
she  wondered,  now,  how  this  man  had  managed  to  soothe 
her  already  to  that  degree  that  she  had  voluntarily  kissed 


HA!  HA!  THE  WOOING  ON'T.  75 

him.  She  would  be  afraid  to  do  it  again,  but  it  was  as 
clearly  on  record  as  that  she  had  once  put  a  flower  in 
his  hat  -y  and  Vesta  said  to  herself: 

"  He  has  power  of  some  kind  !  That  story,  little  as  I 
heard  of  it,  was  told  with  an  opinionated  confidence  I 
wish  my  poor  father  had  something  of.  Could  I  ever  be 
happy  with  this  man,  by  study  and  piety  ?  God  might 
open  the  way,  but  it  seems  closed  to  me  now." 

"  The  night  wears  on,  Miss  Custis,"  spoke  Meshach. 
"  Its  rewards  are  already  great  to  me.  When  may  I  re 
turn?" 

"  I  think  we  must  determine  what  to  do  this  night,  Mr. 
Milburn,"  Vesta  said,  with  rising  determination.  "  Not 
one  point  nearer  have  we  come  to  any  solution  of  this 
obligation  of  my  father,  We  have  considered  it  up  to 
this  time  as  my  obligation,  and  that  may  have  unduly 
encouraged  you.  Sir,  I  can  work  for  my  living." 

"  You  work  ?"  repeated  Milburn. 

"  Why  not  ?  I  love  my  father.  As  other  women  who 
are  left  poor  work  for  their  children  or  a  sick  husband, 
why  should  not  I  for  him  !  Poverty  has  no  terrors  but 
— but  the  loss  of  pride." 

"  You  hazard  that,  whatever  happens,"  said  her  suitor, 
"  but  you  will  not  lose  it  by  evading  the  lesser  evil  for 
the  greater.  I  have  heard  of  women  who  fled  to  poverty 
from  dissatisfaction  with  a  husband,  but  pride  survived 
and  made  poverty  dreadful.  Pride  in  either  case  in 
creased  the  discontent.  You  should  take  the  step  which 
will  let  pride  be  absorbed  in  duty,  if  not  in  love." 

"  Duty  ?"  thought  Vesta.  "  That  is  a  reposeful  word, 
better  than  Love.  Mr.  Milburn,"  she  said  aloud,  "how 
is  it  my  duty  to  do  what  you  ask  ?" 

"  I  think  I  perceive  that  you  have  a  loyal  heart,  a  con 
scientiousness  that  deceit  cannot  even  approach.  Some 
thing  has  already  made  you  slow  to  marriage,  else,  with 
your  wonders,  I  would  not  have  had  the  chance  to  be 


76  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

now  rejected  by  you.  Marriage  has  become  too  formida 
ble,  perhaps,  to  you,  by  the  purity  of  your  heart,  the  more 
so  because  you  looked  upon  it  to  be  your  destiny.  It  is 
your  fate,  but  you  contend  against  it.  Look  upon  it,  then, 
as  a  duty,  such  as  you  expect  in  others — in  your  slave 
maid,  for  instance." 

"Alas  !"  Vesta  said,  "she  may  marry  freely.  I  am  the 
slave." 

"  No,  Miss  Vesta,  she  has  been  free,  but,  sold  among 
strangers  with  your  father's  effects,  will  feel  so  perishing 
for  sympathy  and  protection  that  love,  in  whatever  ugly 
form  it  comes,  will  be  God's  blessing  to  her  poor  heart. 
What  you  repel  in  the  revulsion  of  fortune — the  yoke  of 
a  husband — millions  of  women  have  bent  to  as  if  it  was 
the  very  rainbow  of  promise  set  in  heaven." 

"  How  do  you  know  so  much  of  women's  trials,  Mr. 
Milburn  ?  Have  you  had  sisters,  or  other  ladies  to 
woo  ?" 

"  I  have  seen  human  nature  in  my  little  shop,  not,  like 
your  rare  nature,  refined  by  happy  fortune  and  descent, 
but  of  moderate  kind,  and  struggling  downward  like  a 
wounded  eagle.  They  have  come  to  me  at  first  for  cheaper 
articles  of  necessity  or  smaller  portions  than  other  stores 
would  sell,  looking  on  me  with  contempt.  At  last  they 
have  sacrificed  their  last  slave,  their  last  pair  of  shoes, 
and,  when  it  was  too  late,  their  false  pride  has  surren 
dered  to  shelter  under  a  negro's  hut,  or  dance  barefooted 
in  my  store  for  a  cup  of  whiskey." 

"  Sir,"  exclaimed  Vesta  indignantly,  rising  from  her 
rocker, "  do  you  set  this  warning  for  me  ?" 

As  she  rose  Meshach  Milburn  thought  his  wealth  was 
merely  pebbles  and  shells  to  her  perfection,  now  ani 
mated  with  a  queen's  spirit. 

"  Miss  Vesta,"  he  said,  "  pardon  me,  but  I  have  just  is 
sued  from  many  generations  of  forest  poverty,  and  know 
ing  how  hard  it  is  to  break  that  thraldom,  I  would  stop 


HA!  HA!  THE  WOOING  ON'T.  77 

you  from  taking  the  first  step  towards  it.  The  bloom 
upon  your  cheek,  the  mould  you  are  the  product  of  with 
out  flaw,  the  chaste  lady's  tastes  and  thoughts,  and  in 
born  strength  and  joy,  are  the  work  of  God's  favor  to  your 
family  for  generations.  That  favor  he  continues  in  lay 
ing  those  family  burdens  on  another's  shoulders,  to  spare 
you  the  toil  and  care,  anxiety  and  slow  decay,  that  this 
violent  change  of  circumstances  means.  It  would  be  a 
sin  to  relapse  from  this  perfection  to  that  penury." 

"  I  cannot  see  that  honorable  poverty  would  make  me 
less  a  woman,"  exclaimed  Vesta. 

"  You  do  not  dread  poverty  because  you  do  not  know 
it,"  Milburn  continued.  "  It  grows  in  this  region  like 
the  old  field-pines  and  little  oaks  over  a  neglected  farm. 
Once  there  was  a  court-house  settlement  on  Dividing 
Creek,  where  justice,  eloquence,  talent,  wit,  and  heroism 
made  the  social  centre  of  two  counties,  but  they  moved 
the  court-house  and  the  forest  speedily  choked  the  spot. 
Now  not  an  echo  lingers  of  that  former  glory.  You  can 
save  your  house  from  being  swallowed  up  in  the  forest." 

"  By  marrying  the  forest  hero  ?"  Vesta  said,  though  she 
immediately  regretted  it. 

"  Yes,"  Milburn  uttered  stubbornly,  after  a  pause.  "  I 
have  met  the  house  of  Custis  half-way.  I  am  coming 
out  of  the  woods  as  they  are  going  in,  unless  the  sacrifice 
be  mutual. 

tl  Let  us  not  be  personal,"  Vesta  pleaded,  with  her  grace 
of  sorrow ;  "  I  feel  that  you  are  a  kind  man,  at  least  to  me, 
but  a  poor  girl  must  make  a  struggle  for  herself." 

She  saw  the  tears  stand  instantly  in  his  eyes,  and 
pressed  her  advantage  : 

"  Your  tears  are  like  the  springs  we  find  here,  so  close 
under  the  flinty  sand  that  nobody  would  suspect  them, 
but  I  have  seen  them  trickle  out.  Tell  me,  now,  if  I 
would  not  be  happier  to  take  up  the  burden  of  my  father 
and  mother,  and  let  us  diminish  and  be  frugal,  instead 


78  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

of  cowardly  flying  into  the  protection  of  our  creditor,  by 
a  union  which  the  world,  at  least,  would  pronounce  mer 
cenary.  My  father  might  come  up  again,  in  some  way." 

"  No,  Miss  Vesta.  Your  father  can  hold  no  property 
while  any  portion  of  his  debts  remains  unpaid.  The 
easier  way  is  to  show  the  world  that  our  union  is  not 
mercenary,  by  trying  to  love  each  other.  Throughout 
the  earth  marriage  is  the  reparation  of  ruined  families — 
the  short  path,  and  the  most  natural  one,  too.  Ruth  was 
poor  kin,  but  she  turned  from  the  harvest  stubble  that 
made  her  beautiful  feet  bleed,  to  crawl  to  the  feet  of  old 
Boaz  and  find  wifely  rest,  and  her  wisdom  of  choice  we 
sing  in  the  psalms  of  King  David,  and  hear  in  the  prov 
erbs  of  King  Solomon,  sons  of  her  sons." 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  myself,  God  knows !"  said  Vesta. 
"  Gladly  could  I  teach  a  little  school,  or  be  a  governess 
somewhere,  or,  like  our  connection,  the  mother  of  Wash 
ington,  ride  afield  in  my  sun-bonnet  and  straw  hat  and 
oversee  the  laborers." 

"That  never  made  General  Washington,  Miss  Vesta. 
It  was  marriage  that  lent  him  to  the  world;  first,  his 
half-brother's  marriage  with  the  Fairfaxes  ;  next,  his  own 
with  Custis's  rich  widow.  Had  they  been  looking  for 
natural  parts  only,  some  Daniel  Morgan  or  Ethan  Allen 
would  have  been  Washington's  commander." 

"Why  do  you  draw  me  to  you  by  awakening  the  mo 
tive  of  my  self-love  ?"  asked  Vesta.  "  That  is  not  the 
way  to  preserve  my  heart  as  you  would  have  it." 

"  In  every  way  I  can  draw  you  to  me,"  spoke  Milburn, 
again  trembling  with  earnestness,  "  I  feel  desperate  to 
try.  If  it  is  wrong,  it  arises  from  my  sense  of  self-pres 
ervation.  Without  you  I  am  a  dismal  failure,  and  my 
labor  in  life  is  thrown  away." 

"  Do  you  really  believe  you  love  me  ?  Is  it  not  ambi 
tion  of  some  kind  ;  perhaps  a  social  ambition  ?" 

"To  marry  a  Custis  ?"  Milburn  exclaimed.     "No,  it 


HA  !    HA  !    THE    WOOING   ON?T.  79 

is  to  marry  you.     I  would  rather  you  were  not  a  Cus- 
tis." 

"  Ah !  I  see,  sir ;"  Vesta's  face  flushed  with  some  ad 
miration  for  the  man;  "you  think  your  family  name  is 
quite  as  good.  So  you  ought  to  do.  Then  you  love  me 
from  a  passion  ?" 

"Partly  that,"  answered  Milburn.  "I  love  you  from 
my  whole  temperament,  whatever  it  is ;  from  the  glow  of 
youth  and  the  reflection  of  manhood,  from  appreciation 
of  you,  and  from  worship,  also ;  from  the  eye  and  the 
mind.  I  love  you  in  the  vision  of  domestic  settlement, 
in  the  companionship  of  thought,  in  the  partition  of  my 
ambition,  in  my  instinct  for  cultivation.  I  love  you,  too, 
with  the  ardor  of  a  lover,  stronger  than  all,  because  I 
must  possess  you  to  possess  myself;  because  you  kindle 
flame  in  me,  and  my  humanity  of  pity  is  trampled  down 
by  my  humanity  of  desire ;  I  cannot  hear  your  appeal  to 
escape  !  I  am  deaf  to  sentiments  of  honor  and  courtesy, 
if  they  let  you  slip  me !  Give  yourself  to  me,  and  these 
better  angels  may  prevail,  being  perhaps  accessory  to  the 
mighty  instinct  I  obey  at  the  command  of  the  Creator !" 

As  he  proceeded,  Vesta  saw  shine  in  Meshach  Mil- 
burn's  face  the  very  ecstacy  of  love.  His  dark,  resinous 
eyes  were  like  forest  ponds  flashing  at  night  under  the 
torches  of  negro  'coon-hunters.  His  long  lady's  hands 
trembled  as  he  stretched  them  towards  her  to  clasp  her, 
and  she  saw  upon  his  brow  and  in  his  open  nostril  and 
firm  mouth  the  presence  of  a  will  that  seldom  fails,  when 
exerted  mightily,  to  reduce  a  woman's,  and  make  her  rec 
ognize  her  lord. 

Yet,  with  this  strong  excitement  of  mental  and  animal 
love,  which  generally  animates  man  to  eloquence,  if  not 
to  beauty,  a  weary  something,  nearly  like  pain,  marked 
the  bold  intruder,  and  a  quiver,  not  like  will  and  courage, 
went  through  his  frame.  It  was  this  which  touched  Vesta 
with  the  sense  that  perhaps  she  was  not  the  only  sufferer 


80  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

there,  and  pity,  which  saves  many  a  lover  when  his  mer 
its  could  not  win,  brought  the  Judge's  daughter  to  an  im 
pulsive  determination. 

"  Mr.  Milburn,"  she  said  at  last,  pressing  her  hands  to 
her  head,  "  this  day's  trials  have  been  too  much  for  my 
brain.  Never,  in  all  my  life  together,  have  I  had  reali 
ties  like  these  to  contend  with.  I  am  worn  out.  Nay, 
sir,  do  not  touch  me  now !"  He  had  tried  to  repeat  his 
sympathetic  overture,  and  pet  her  in  his  arms.  "  Let  us 
end  this  conflict  at  once.  You  say  you  will  marry  me  j 
when  ?" 

"  It  is  yours  to  say  when,  Miss  Custis.  I  am  ready 
any  day." 

"And  you  will  give  me  every  note  and  obligation  of 
my  father,  so  that  my  mother's  portion  shall  be  returned 
to  her  in  full,  and  this  house,  servants,  and  demesnes  be 
mine  in  my  own  right  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Milburn  ;  "  I  have  such  confidence  in  your 
truth  and  virtue  that  you  shall  keep  these  papers  from 
this  moment  until  the  marriage-day." 

"  It  will  not  be  long,  then,"  Vesta  said,  looking  at  Mil- 
burn  with  a  will  and  authority  fully  equal  to  his  own. 
"Will  you  take  me  to-night?" 

"  To-night  ?"  he  repeated.     "  Not  to-night,  surely  ?" 

"  To-night,  or  probably  never." 

He  drew  nearer,  so  as  to  look  into  her  countenance  by 
the  strong  firelight.  Calm  courage,  that  would  die,  like 
Joan  of  Arc  in  the  flames,  met  his  inquiry. 

"Yes,"  said  Milburn,  "at  your  command  I  will  take 
you  to-night,  though  it  is  a  surprise  to  me." 

He  flinched  a  little,  nevertheless,  his  conscience  being 
uneasy,  and  the  same  trembling  Vesta  had  already  ob 
served  went  through.his  frame  again. 

"  What  will  the  world  say  to  your  marriage  after  a  sin 
gle  day's  acquaintance  with  me?" 

"Nothing,"  Vesta  answered,  "except  that  I  am  your 


HA!  HA!  THE  WOOING  ON'T.  Si 

wife.  That  will,  at  least,  silence  advice  and  prevent  in 
trusion.  If  I  delay,  these  forebodings  may  prevail,  if  not 
with  me,  with  my  family,  some  of  whom  are  to  be  feared." 

He  seemed  to  have  no  curiosity  on  that  subject,  only 
saying : 

"  It  is  you,  dear  child,  I  am  thinking  of — whether  this 
haste  will  not  be  repented,  or  become  a  subject  of  re 
proach  to  yourself.  To  me  it  cannot  be,  having  no  world, 
no  tribe — only  myself  and  you  !" 

Vesta  came  forward  and  lifted  his  hand,  which  was 
cold. 

"I  believe  that  you  love  me,"  she  said.  "I  believe 
this  hand  has  the  lines  of  a  gentleman.  Now,  I  will 
trust  to  you  a  family  confidence.  The  troubles  of  this 
house  are  like  a  fire  which  there  is  no  other  way  of  treat 
ing  than  to  put  it  out  at  once.  My  father  will  not  be  dis 
turbed,  beyond  his  secret  pain,  at  the  step  I  am  to  take, 
for  he  appreciates  your  talents  and  success.  It  is  for  him 
I  shall  take  this  step,  if  I  take  it  at  all,  and  I  have  yet 
an  hour  to  reflect.  But  my  mother  will  be  resentful,  and 
her  brothers  and  kindred  in  Baltimore  will  express  a 
savage  rage,  in  the  first  place,  at  my  father's  losing  her 
portion ;  next  to  that,  and  I  hope  less  bitterly,  they  will 
resent  my  marriage  to  you.  Exposed  to  their  interfer 
ence,  I  might  be  restrained  from  going  to  my  father's  as 
sistance  ;  they  might  even  force  me  away,  and  break  our 
family  up,  leaving  father  alone  to  encounter  his  miseries." 

"I  see,"  said  Milburn;  "you  would  give  me  the  legal 
right  to  meet  your  mother's  excited  people." 

"  Not  that  merely,"  Vesta  said  ;  "  I  would  put  it  out  of 
her  power  and  theirs  to  prevent  the  sacrifice  I  meditate 
making.  My  father's  immediate  dread  is  my  mother's 
upbraiding — that  he  has  risked  and  lost  her  money.  It 
has  sent  her  to  bed  already,  sick  and  almost  violent.  I 
might  as  well  save  the  poor  gentleman  his  whole  distress, 
if  I  am  to  save  him  a  part." 


82  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Brave  girl !"  exclaimed  Meshach  Milburn,  in  admira 
tion.  "It  is  true,  then,  that  blood  will  tell.  You  intend 
to  give  your  mother  the  money  which  has  been  lost,  and 
silence  her  complaint  before  she  makes  it?" 

"Just  that,  Mr.  Milburn,  and  to  say,  'It  is  my  hus 
band's  gift,  and  a  peace-offering  from  us  all.' " 

"  Is  it  not  your  intention,  honey,"  asked  the  creditor, 
"  to  take  Mrs.  Custis  into  your  confidence  before  this 
marriage  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  the  entreaty  of  one  in  doubt, 
who  would  be  resolved.  "  Advise  me,"  she  said.  "  I 
want  to  do  the  best  for  all,  and  spare  all  bitter  words, 
which  rankle  so  long.  Is  it  necessary  to  tell  my  mother?" 

"  No.  You  are  a  free  woman.  I  know  your  age — 
though  I  shall  forget  it  by  and  by."  This  first  gleam  of 
humor  rather  became  his  strange  face.  "  If  you  tell  your 
father,  it  is  enough." 

"  I  hope  I  am  doing  right,"  Vesta  said,  "  and  now  I 
shall  take  my  hour  to  my  soul  and  my  Saviour.  Sir,  do 
you  ever  pray  ?" 

Milburn  recoiled  a  little. 

"  I  do  not  pray  like  you,"  he  replied  ;  "  my  prayers  are 
dry  things.  I  do  say  a  little  rhyme  over  that  my  mother 
taught  me  in  the  forest." 

"  Try  to  pray  for  me  to  do  right,"  said  Vesta,  "  that  I 
may  not  make  this  sacrifice,  and  leave  a  wounded  con 
science.  And  now,  sir,  farewell.  At  nine  o'clock  go  to 
our  church  and  wait.  If  I  resolve  to  come,  there  you 
will  find  the  rector,  and  all  the  arrangements  made.  If 
I  do  not  come,  I  think  you  will  see  me  no  more." 

"Oh,  beautiful  spirit,"  exclaimed  her  lover,  "oppress 
me  not  with  that  fear  !" 

"If  another  way  is  made  plain  to  me,"  Vesta  said, "  I 
shall  go  that  way.  If  my  duty  leads  me  to  you  again, 
you  will  be  my  master.  Sir,  though  your  errand  here 
was  a  severe  one,  I  thank  you  for  your  sincerity  and  the 


MASTER    IN    THE    KITCHEN.  83 

kind  consideration  you  seem  to  have  had  for  me  so  long. 
Farewell." 

"  Angel !  Vesta  !  Honey  !"  Milburn  cried,  "  may  I  kiss 
you  ?" 

"  Not  now,"  she  answered,  cold  as  superiority,  and  in 
terposing  her  hand. 

The  door  stood  wide  open,  and  the  slave-girl,  Virgie, 
in  it,  holding  the  Entailed  Hat.  Milburn,  with  a  shud 
der,  took  it,  and  covered  himself,  and  departed. 


CHAPTER  X. 

MASTER    IN    THE    KITCHEN. 

THE  kitchen  had  been  a  scene  of  anything  but  culi 
nary  peace  and  savor  during  the  long  visit  of  the  owner 
of  the  hat. 

Aunt  Hominy  and  the  little  darkeys  had  made  three 
stolen  visits  to  the  hall  to  peep  at  the  dreadful  thing 
hanging  there,  as  if  it  were  a  trap  of  some  kind,  liable  to 
drop  a  spring  and  catch  somebody,  or  to  explode  like  a 
mortar  or  torpedo.  As  hour  after  hour  wore  on,  and 
Miss  Vesta  did  not  reappear,  and  finally  rang  her  bell  for 
tea,  Aunt  Hominy  was  beside  herself  with  superstition. 

"Honey,"  she  exclaimed  to  Virgie,  "jess  you  take  in 
dis  yer  dried  lizzer  an'  dis  cammermile,  an'  drap  de  lizzer 
in  dat  ole  hat,  an'  sprinkle  de  flo'  whar  ole  Meshach  sots 
wi'  de  cammermile,  an'  say  '  Shoo !'  Maybe  it'll  spile 
his  measurin'  of  Miss  Vessy  in." 

"  No,  aunty,  if  old  Meshach  measured  me  in,  I  wouldn't 
make  the  family  ashamed  before  him.  Miss  Vessy  is 
powerful  wise,  and  maybe  she'll  get  the  better  of  that 
wicked  hat." 

"Yes,"  said  Roxy,  "she's  good,  Aunt  Hominy,  an' 
says  her  prayers  every  night  and  mornin'.  I've  heard 


84  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

tell  that  witches  can't  hear  the  Lord's  name,  and  stay,  no 
how.  Maybe  Miss  Vessy'll  say  in  Meshach's  old  hat : 
'  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  bless  the  bed  that  I 
lie  on.'  That'll  make  the  old  devil  jess  fly  up  an'  away." 

"No,  gals,"  insisted  Aunt  Hominy,  "cammermile  is 
all  dat'll  keep  him  from  a-measurin'  of  us  in.  Don't  ole 
Meshach  go  to  church,  too,  and  hab  a  prayer-book  an' — 
listen  dar,  honey  !  ef  she  ain't  a  singin'  to  him  !" 

As  Virgie  answered  the  bell,  Aunt  Hominy  took  down 
her  cherished  camomile  and  sprinkled  the  little  chil 
dren,  and  gave  them  each  a  glass  of  sassafras  beer  to 
bless  their  insides. 

"  Lord  a  bless  'em !"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  "  ef  de 
slave-buyer  comes,  Aunt  Hominy'll  take  'em  to  de  woods 
an'  jess  git  los',  an'  live  on  teaberries,  slippery  -ellum, 
haws,  an'  chincapins.  We  don't  gwyn  stay  an'  let  ole 
Meshach  starve  us  like  a  lizzer." 

"Aunt  Hominy,"  said  Roxy,  "maybe,  old  lady,  ef  you 
bake  a  nice  loaf  of  Federal  bread,  or  a  game-pie,  or  a  per 
simmon  custard,  an'  send  it  to  ole  Meshach,  he  won't 
sell  us  to  the  slave-buyers.  He  never  gets  nothing  good 
to  eat,  an'  don't  know  what  it  is.  A  little  taste  of  it'll 
make  him  want  mo'." 

"  Roxy,  gal,"  said  Aunt  Hominy,  "  I'd  jess  like  to  make 
a  dumplin'-bag  out  o'  dat  steeple-hat  he  got.  When  I 
skinned  de  dumplin'  de  hat  would  be  bad  spiled,  chillen, 
an'  den  de  Judge  would  git  his  Ian'  back  dat  Meshach's 
measured  in.  For  de  Judge  would  say,  '  Meshach,  ye 
hain't  measured  me  fair.  Wha's  yer  yard-stick,  ole  deb- 
bil  ?'  Den  Meshach  he  say, '  De  hat  I  tuk  it  in  wid,  done 
gone  burnt  by  dat  ole  Hominy,  makin'  of  her  puddin's.' 
'Den,'  says  de  Judge,  'ye  ain't  measured  me  squar.  I 
won't  play.  Take  it  all  back  !'  Chillen,  we  must  git  dat 
ar  ole  hat,  or  de  slave-buyers  done  take  us  all." 

They  started  to  take  another  peep  of  cupidity  and 
awe  at  the  storied  hat,  when  Virgie  emerged  from  the 


MASTER    IN    THE    KITCHEN.  85 

parlor  door  with  the  dreaded  article  in  her  hand,  and, 
hanging  it  on  the  peg,  came  with  superstitious  fear  and 
relief  into  the  colonnade.  Aunt  Hominy  hurried  her  to 
the  kitchen,  strewed  her  with  herb-dust,  waved  a  rattle  of 
snake's  teeth  in  a  pig's  weazen  over  her  head,  and  ended 
by  pushing  a  sweet  piece  of  preserved  watermelon-rind 
down  her  throat.  . 

"  Did  it  hurt  ye,  honey  ?"  inquired  Aunt  Hominy,  with 
her  eyes  full  of  excitement,  referring  to  the  hat. 

"  'Deed  I  don't  know,  aunty,"  Virgie  answered ;  "  all  I 
saw  was  Miss  Vessy,  looking  away  from  me,  as  if  she  might 
be  going  to  be  ashamed  of  me,  an'  I  picked  the  thing  up 
an'  took  it  to  the  rack ;  an'  all  I  know  is,  it  smelled  old, 
like  some  of  the  old-clothes  chests  up  in  the  garret,  when 
we  lift  the  lid  and  peep  in,  an'  it  seems  as  if  they  were 
dead  people's  clothes." 

The  little  negroes,  Ned,  Vince,  and  Phillis,  heard  this 
with  shining  eyes,  and  dived  their  heads  under  Aunt 
Hominy's  skirts  and  apron,  while  the  old  woman  ex 
claimed  : 

"De  Lord  a  massy!"  and  began  to  blow  what  she 
called  "pow-pow"  on  the  girl's  profaned  fingers. 

"  I  don't  believe  it's  anything,  aunty,  but  an  ugly,  old, 
nasty,  dead  folks'  hat,"  exclaimed  Virgie.  "  He  just  wears 
it  to  plague  people.  He  was  drinking  tea  just  like  Miss 
Vessy,  but  I  thought  his  teeth  chattered  a  little,  as  if  he 
had  smelt  of  the  old  hat,  and  it  give  him  a  chill." 

"Where  did  he  get  the  hat,  Aunt  Hominy?"  Roxy 
asked.  "  Did  he  dig  it  up  somewhere  ?" 

The  question  seemed  to  spur  the  cook's  easy  inven 
tion,  and,  after  a  cunning  yet  credulous  look  up  and 
down  the  large  kitchen,  where  the  pale  light  at  the  win 
dows  was  invisible  in  the  stronger  fire  beneath  the  great 
stack  chimney,  Aunt  Hominy  whispered  : 

"  He  dug  dat  hat  up  in  ole  Rehoboff  ruined  church 
yard.  He  foun'  it  in  de  grave." 


86  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"But  you  said  this  afternoon,  aunty,  that  the  Bad  Man 
gave  it  to  him." 

"De  debbil  met  him  right  dar,"  insisted  Aunt  Hom 
iny,  "  in  dat  ole  obergrown  churchyard,  whar  de  hymns 
ob  God  used  to  be  raised  befo'  de  debbil  got  it.  He  says 
to  Meshach :  '  I  make  you  de  sexton  hyar.  Go  git  de 
spade  out  yonder,  whar  de  dead-house  used  to  be,  an'  dig 
among  de  graves  under  de  myrtle-vines,  an'  fin'  my  hat. 
As  long  as  ye  keep  de  Lord  an'  de  singin'  away  from  dis 
yer  big  forsaken  church,  you  may  keep  dat  hat  to  measure 
in  eberybody's  Ian'.'  So  nobody  kin  sing  or  pray  in  dat 
church.  Nobody  but  Meshach  Milburn  ever  prays  dar. 
He  goes  dar  sometimes  wid  his  Chrismas-giff  on  he  head, 
an'  prays  to  de  debbil." 

Thus  does  an  unwonted  fashion  arouse  unwonted  vis 
ions,  as  if  it  brought  to  the  present  day  the  phantoms 
which  were  laid  at  rest  with  itself,  and  they  walked  into 
simple  minds,  and  produced  superstition  there. 

Aunt  Hominy  never  was  stimulated  to  inventions  of 
this  kind,  but  she  immediately  absorbed  them,  and  they 
became  religious  beliefs  with  her.  Her  manner,  highly 
animated  by  her  terror  and  belief,  produced  more  and 
more  superstition  in  the  minds  of  the  girls  and  children, 
and  the  conversation  fell  off, — the  little  negroes  wander 
ing  hither  and  thither,  unable  to  sleep,  yet  unable  to  at 
tract  sufficient  attention  from  any  one,  till  Judge  Custis, 
who  had  been  waiting  for  hours  for  his  creditor  to  go, 
slipped  down  the  back  stairs  in  his  old  slippers,  and 
came  to  the  kitchen  among  the  colored  people  for  com 
pany's  sake. 

His  fine  presence,  and  familiar,  if  superior,  address,  put 
a  new  complexion  at  once  on  the  African  end  of  the 
house. 

He  picked  up  all  the  children  by  twos  or  threes,  woolled 
them,  chased  them,  tossed  them,  and  drove  the  lurid  im 
ages  of  Aunt  Hominy's  mind  out  of  their  spirits,  and  then 


MASTER   IN   THE    KITCHEN.  87 

caught  the  two  young  girls,  and  set  Roxy  on  his  shoul 
der,  and  caught  Virgie  by  the  waist,  and  finally  piled 
them 'on  Aunt  Hominy,  who  ran  behind  her  biscuit-block, 
and  he  bunched  all  the  children  upon  the  party. 

"  De  Lord  a  massy,  Judge  !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Hominy, 
delighted,  and  showing  her  white  teeth,  whichever  side 
she  revealed.  "  Go  'long,  Judge,  Missy  Custis  ketch  you  ! 
Miss  Vessy's  a-comin',  befor'  de  Lawd  !" 

The  children  were  screaming,  getting  into  the  riot 
more,  while  pretending  to  try  to  get  out,  invading  the 
Judge's  back,  and  rubbing  their  clean  wool  into  his 
whiskers,  and  the  two  neat  servants,  brought  up  like 
white  children  in  his  family,  were  not  unaccustomed  to 
either  jovial  handling  or  petting  from  their  master,  which 
he  commonly  concluded  by  a  present  of  some  kind. 

"Old  woman,"  said  the  Judge  to  Aunt  Hominy,  "can 
you  give  me  a  bit  of  broiled  something  for  my  stomach  ? 
I  want  to  eat  it  right  here." 

"  Ha  !  yah  !  Don't  got  nothin'  but  a  young  chicken, 
marster!  Mebbe  I  kin  git  ye  a  squab  outen  de  pigeon- 
house  in  de  gable-vend." 

"  That's  it,  Hominy  !"  exclaimed  Judge  Custis  ;  "  a  ten 
der  squab,  a  little  toast  in  cream,  a  glass  of  morning  milk, 
and  a  bunch  of  fresh  celery,  will  just  raise  my  pulse,  and 
put  courage  into  me.  Get  it,  my  faithful  old  girl ;  it's  the 
last  I  may  ask  of  you,  for  old  Samson  Hat  is  going  to 
own  you  next." 

"Me?  No,  sah!  I'll  run  away  from  Prencess  Anne 
fust.  De  man  dat  cleans  ole  Meshach  Milburn's  debbil 
hat  sha'n't  nebber  hab  me." 

"  Well,  it'll  be  one  of  you.  If  you  don't  take  Samson, 
Roxy  must,  or  Virgie.  The  old  fellow  will  be  very  in 
fluential  with  our  new  master,  and,  Hominy,  we're  all  de 
pending  on  you  to  make  him  so  comfortable  that  he  will 
just  keep  the  family  together." 

Sobriety   came   in   on  this   attempted  witticism,  and 


88  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  old  cook  saw  a  film  grow  into  the  Judge's  smiling 
eyes. 

"  Old  marster !"  she  exclaimed,  raising  her  hands, 
"you's  jess  a-sottin'  dar,  an'  breakin'  your  poor  heart. 
Don't  I  know  when  you  is  a-makin'  believe  ?  Mebbe  dis 
night  is  de  las'  we'll  ever  see  you  in  your  own  warm,  nice 
kitchen,  an'  never  mo',  dear  ole  marster,  kin  Hominy 
brile  you  a  bird  or  season  de  soup  you  like.  Bless  God, 
dis  time  we'll  git  de  squab  an'  de  celery  an'  de  toast, 
befo'  ole  Meshach  Milburn  measures  all  we  got  in  !" 

While  the  children  crawled  around  the  Judge's  knees, 
setting  up  a  dismal  wail  to  see  him  sob,  the  two  neat 
house  girls,  forgetting  every  contingency  to  themselves, 
sobbed  also,  like  his  own  daughters,  to  see  him  un 
manned  ;  but  Aunt  Hominy  only  felt  desperately  ener 
getic  at  the  chance  to  cook  the  last  supper  of  the  Custis 
household. 

She  lighted  a  brand  of  pine  in  the  fire,  and  started  one 
of  the  stable  boys  up  a  ladder  by  its  light  to  ransack  the 
pigeon-cote,  and  in  a  very  little  while  both  a  chicken  and 
a  bird  were  broiled  and  set  upon  the  kitchen-table  upon 
a  spotless  cloth,  and  the  plume  of  lily-white  celery,  and 
the  smoking  toast  in  velvet  cream,  warmed  the  Judge's 
nostrils,  and  dried  his  tears. 

Roxy  stood  behind  him  to  wait  upon  his  wishes ;  Vir- 
gie  subdued  every  expression  of  grief,  and  comforted  the 
children,  and  poor  Aunt  Hominy,  with  silent  tears  stream 
ing  down  her  cheeks  to  see  him  eat  and  suffer,  kept  up 
a  clatter  of  epicurean  talk,  lest  he  might  turn  and  see 
her  miserable.  As  he  finished  his  meal,  and  took  out 
his  gold  tooth-pick,  and  felt  a  comfortable  joy  of  such 
misery  and  sympathy,  Vesta  opened  the  door,  and  said  : 

"  Papa !" 

"My  child?" 

"Let  me  speak  with  you." 

Judge  Custis  rose,  and  raised  his  hands  to  Aunt  Horn- 


DYING    PRIDE.  89 

iny  in  speechless  recognition  of  her  service ;  but  not  till 
the  door  closed  behind  him  did  the  old  cook's  cry  burst 
through  her  quivering  lips  : 

"Oh!  chillen,  chillen,  he'll  never  eat  no  mo'  like  dat 
again.     Ole  Meshach's  measured  him  in  !" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

DYING     PRIDE. 

AT  the  termination  of  Milburn's  long  visit,  Vesta  had 
gone  to  her  own  room,  and  read  her  passage  in  the  Bible, 
and  said  her  prayer,  and  tried  to  think,  but  the  day's  ap 
plication  had  been  too  great  to  leave  her  mind  its  morn 
ing  energy,  when  health,  which  is  so  much  of  decision, 
was  elastic  in  her  veins  and  brain. 

She  began  to  see  her  duty  loom  up  like  a  prodigious 
thing  on  one  side,  crowding  every  other  consideration 
out  of  the  way  but  one — her  modesty ;  and  threatening 
that,  which,  like  a  little  mouse,  ran  around  and  around 
her  mind,  timorous,  but  helpless,  and  without  a  hole  of 
escape. 

She  would  cease  to  be  a  maid  within  the  circuit  of 
the  clock,  or  forsake  her  family,  and  drive  that  great 
bloodhound  of  duty  over  the  threshold  of  her  ruined 
home. 

In  the  one  case  lay  outward  devastation — the  red  eyes 
of  parents  and  servants  who  had  not  slept  all  night,  and 
looked  at  her  as  their  obdurate  hostage,  and  the  prying 
constables  lodged  upon  the  premises  to  see  that  nothing 
was  smuggled  out,  the  ring  of  the  auctioneer's  bell,  and 
the  fingering  of  boors  and  old  gossips  over  the  cherished 
things  of  the  family,  even  to  her  heirlooms,  jewelry,  and 
hosiery;  the  vast  old  house  a  hollow  barn  when  these 
were  done,  and  she  and  her  mother  visitors  at  the  jail 


90  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

where  her  poor  father  looked  through  the  bars,  and  bent 
his  head  in  shame  ! 

Then  the  servants,  one  after  another,  mounted  upon 
the  court-house  block,  the  old  gray  servitors  mocked,  the 
little  children  parted,  like  calves  by  the  butcher,  and  the 
young  girls  feeling  the  desperate  apprehensions  of  abuse 
and  violation,  that  were  the  other  alternative  to  herself, 
with  whom  purity  was  like  the  whiteness  of  the  lily, 
prized  more  than  its  beauty  of  form  or  its  perfume. 

She  glanced  in  her  mirror  by  the  light  that  flamed  in 
her  brazen  grate,  and  saw  the  blushes  climb  like  flying 
virgins  at  the  sack  of  towns,  up  the  white  ramparts  of  her 
neck  and  temples. 

The  form  which  had  altered  so  little  from  childhood, 
supple  and  straight,  and  moulded  to  perfection,  was  to 
fall  like  the  young  hickory-tree  in  the  August  hurricane, 
twisted  from  its  native  grove.  The  breath  of  the  man 
she  was  to  yield  her  life  to,  irresistible  and  hot  as  that 
storm,  she  had  felt  already,  when  he  held  her  for  a  mo 
ment  in  his  arms  in  the  transport  of  passion,  and  heard 
his  fearless  avowal  of  desire. 

To  marry  any  man  now  seemed  hard ;  to  marry  this 
one  was  inexpressible  shame,  and  at  the  thought  of  it 
she  could  not  shed  a  tear,  such  paralysis  came  over  her. 
She  had  read  of  the  recent  Greek  revolution,  where  ele 
gant  ladies  of  Scio,  and  other  isles  of  the  ^Egean  Sea, 
educated  in  the  best  seminaries  of  Europe,  had  been  sold 
by  thousands  as  common  slaves  in  the  markets  of  Con 
stantinople,  and  carried  to  their  estates  by  brutal  Turks, 
with  all  the  gloating  anticipation  of  lust  and  tyranny. 

On  this  vivid  episode  started  a  procession  of  all  the 
ages  of  women  who  had  been  the  sport  of  conquest  since 
their  common  mother,'Eve,lost  Paradise  by  her  simplicity: 
the  Jewish  maidens  carried  to  Babylon,  the  Gothic  virgins 
dragged  at  the  horse-tails  of  the  Moors,  the  daughters  of 
Palestine  and  Byzantium  consigned  to  Arab  sensualists, 


DYING    PRIDE.  91 

and  made  to  follow  their  nomadic  tents,  and  the  almond- 
eyed  damsels  of  China  surrendered  by  their  parents  to 
the  wild  Kalmucks,  to  be  beaten  and  starved  on  every 
cold  plain  of  Asia,  till  life  was  laid  down  with  neither 
hope  nor  fear. 

"  I  am  happier  than  millions  of  my  sex,"  Vesta  said ; 
"my  captor  does  not  despise  me,  at  least.  Perhaps  he 
will  treat  me  kinder  than  I  think,  and  give  me  time 
to  draw  towards  him  without  this  deadly  pain  and 
shame." 

Then  she  almost  repented  of  her  hasty  decision  to 
marry  this  night,  instead  of  after  longer  acquaintance, 
which  Mr.  Milburn,  no  doubt,  would  have  granted,  and 
his  words  were  remembered  with  accusation  :  "  What 
will  the  world  say  to  your  marriage  after  a  single  day's 
acquaintance ^with  me?"  "Will  this  haste  not  be  re 
pented,  or  become  a  subject  of  reproach  to  you  ?"  Was 
it  too  late  to  recall  her  words,  and  ask  for  delay  ? 

"  No,"  thought  Vesta,  "  I  am  to  keep,  at  least,  my  mind 
maiden  and  chaste,  instead  of  playing  the  unstable  co 
quette  with  that.  I  will  not  let  him  begin  to  think  me 
weak  and  changeful  already." 

To  see  if  there  was  the  least  glimmer  of  relief  from 
this  marriage  Vesta  crossed  to  her  mother's  room,  and 
found  Mrs.  Custis  with  her  head  wrapped  in  handker 
chiefs  steeped  in  cologne,  and  a  vial  of  laudanum  in  her 
hand,  and  in  a  condition  bordering  on  hysteria. 

"  Mamma,"  said  poor  Vesta,  "  are  you  in  pain?" 

"  Oh  !"  screamed  Mrs.  Custis,  "  I  am  just  dying  here 
of  cruelty  and  brutality.  Your  father  is  a  villain.  I'll 
have  that  rascal,  Milburn,  killed.  Go  get  me  ink  and 
paper,  daughter,  and  sit  here  and  write  me  a  letter  to  my 
brother,  Allan  McLane,  in  Baltimore.  He  shall  settle 
with  Judge  Custis  for  this  robbery,  and  take  you  and  me 
back  to  Baltimore,  leaving  your  father  to  go  to  the  alms- 
house  or  the  jail,  I  don't  care  which." 


92  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  Mother,"  exclaimed  Vesta,  "  what  a  sin !  to  abuse 
poor  father  now  in  all  his  trouble  !" 

"Trouble!"  echoed  Mrs.  Custis,  mockingly,  "what 
trouble  has  he  had,  I  would  like  to  know?  Living  in 
the  woo'ds  like  a  Turk  among  his  barefooted  forest  con 
cubines !  Spending  my  money,  raked  and  scraped  by 
my  poor  father  in  the  sugar  importation,  to  make  pud 
dle  iron  out  of  the  swamp,  and  be  considered  a  smart 
man  !  The  family  is  broken  up.  We  are  paupers,  and 
now  'it  is  save  yourself.'  I'll  take  care  of  you  if  I 
can,  but  your  father  may  starve  for  any  aid  I  will  give 
him." 

"  Then  he  shall  have  the  only  aid  in  my  power,  moth 
er,"  said  Vesta,  decisively. 

"  Your  aid  !"  Mrs.  Custis  exclaimed.  "  What  have 
you  got?  Your  jewels,  I  suppose?  How  long  will  they 
keep  him  ?  You  had  better  keep  your  jewels,  girl,  for 
your  wedding,  and  have  it  come  quickly,  for  marriage  is 
now  your  only  salvation." 

"  My  last  jewel  shall  go,  then,"  Vesta  said,  with  a  pale 
resolution  that  darted  through  her  veins  like  ice. 

"  Save  your  jewels,"  Mrs.  Custis  continued,  "  and 
choose  a  husband  before  this  thing  is  noised  abroad! 
You  have  a  good  large  list  to  select  from.  There  is  your 
cousin,  Chase  McLane,  crazy  for  you,  and  with  an  estate 
in  Kent.  There  is  that  young  fool  Carroll,  with  thousands 
of  acres  on  the  western  shore,  and  the  widower  Hynson 
of  King  George,  Virginia,  with  eighty  slaves  and  his  sta 
bles  full  of  race-horses.  You  can  marry  any  of  these 
Dennis  boys,  or  take  Captain  Ringgold  of  Frederick, 
who  lives  in  elegance  at  West  Point,  or  be  mistress  of 
Tench  Purvience's  mansion  on  Monument  Square  in 
Baltimore.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  write  a  letter,  say 
ing:  'I  expect  you,'  or,  what  is  better,  take  to-morrow's 
steamer  for  Baltimore  and  use  your  Uncle  Allan's  house 
and  become  engaged  and  married  there." 


DYING    PRIDE.  93 

"  Mamma,"  Vesta  spoke  without  rebuke,  only  with  a 
sad,  confirmed  feeling  of  her  destiny,  "  I  could  be  capable 
of  deceiving  any  of  those  gentlemen  if  I  could  so  heart 
lessly  leave  my  father." 

"  Deceiving !"  Mrs.  Custis  remarked,  filling  her  palm 
and  brow  with  the  cologne.  "What  is  man's  whole  work 
with  a  woman  but  deceit?  To  court  her  for  her  money, 
to  kiss  her  into  taking  her  money  out  of  good  mortgages 
and  putting  it  into  bog  iron  ore  ?  To  tell  her  when  past 
middle  life  that  she  has  nothing  to  live  upon,  except  the 
charity  of  the  public,  or  her  reluctant  friends.  All  this 
for  an  experiment!  The  Custis  family  are  all  knaves  or 
fools.  Your  father  is  a  monster." 

Vesta  went  to  her  mother's  side  and  bathed  her  fore 
head. 

"Dear  mamma,"  she  said,  "let you  and  I  do  something 
for  ourselves,  while  papa  looks  around  and  finds  some 
thing  to  do.  We  can  rent  a  house  in  Princess  Anne  and 
open  a  seminary.  I  can  teach  French  and  music,  you 
can  be  the  matron  and  do  the  correspondence  and  busi 
ness,  and  if  papa  is  at  a  loss  for  larger  occupation  he  can 
lecture  on  history  and  science.  Our  friends  will  send 
their  children  to  us,  and  we  shall  never  be  separated.  I 
will  give  up  the  thought  of  marriage  and  live  for  you 
two." 

Mrs.  Custis  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  And  be  an  old  maid  !"  she  blurted.  "  That  is  insuf 
ferable.  What  are  all  these  accomplishments  and 
charms  for  but  a  husband,  and  what  is  he  for  but  to 
provide  bread  and  clothes.  Don't  be  as  crazy  as  your 
unprincipled  father!  Try  no  experiments!  Drop  phi 
lanthropy  !  Money  is  the  foundation  of  all  respectability." 

Vesta  thought  to  herself:  "Can  that  be  so?  Does  it 
not,  then,  justify  the  man  who  solicits  me  in  his  means  of 
getting  money  ?  Mother  " — Vesta  spoke — "  you  would 
have  me  marry,  then  ?" 


94  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  There  is  no  would  about  it,"  answered  Mrs.  Custis. 
"  You  must  marry !" 

"  Marry  immediately  ?" 

"  Yes,  the  sooner  the  better,  to  a  rich  man.  Have  you 
picked  out  one  ?" 

"  Give  me  your  blessing,  and  I  will  try,"  Vesta  said ; 
"  I  think  I  know  such  a  one." 

Mrs.  Custis  kissed  her  daughter,  and  moaned  about 
her  poor  head  and  lost  marriage  portion,  and  Vesta  set 
out  to  look  for  her  father. 

She  found  him  as  described,  in  the  luxury  of  tears  and 
squab,  as  comfortable  among  his  negro  servants  as  in  the 
state  legislature  or  at  the  head  of  society,  and  they  wrap 
ped  up  in  his  condescension  and  misfortunes. 

As  Vesta  saw  the  curious  scene  of  such  patriarchal  de 
mocracy  in  the  old  kitchen,  she  wondered  if  that  voluptu 
ous  endowment  of  her  father  was  not  the  happy  provision 
to  make  marriage  unions  tolerable,  and  social  revulsions 
philosophical.  Something  of  regret  that  she  had  not 
more  of  the  animal  faintly  grew  upon  her  sad  smile  when 
she  considered  that  wherever  her  father  went  he  made 
welcome  and  warmth,  as  she  already  felt  at  the  picture 
of  him,  after  parting  with  her  apathetic  mother. 

"  Roxy,"  said  Vesta,  as  she  left  the  kitchen,  "  do  you 
go  up  to  my  mother  and  stay  with  her  all  this  night. 
Make  your  spread  there  beside  her  bed.  Virgie,  put  on 
your  hood  and  carry  a  letter  for  me, — I  will  write  it  in  the 
library." 

She  sat  before  her  father,  he  too  undecided  to  speak, 
and  seeing  by  her  fixed  expression  that  it  was  no  time 
for  loquacity.  She  sealed  the  letter  with  wax,  and,  Virgie 
coming  in,  her  father  heard  the  direction  she  gave  with 
curiosity  greater  than  his  embarrassment : 

"Take  this  to  Rev.  William  Tilghman.  Give  it  to 
him  only,  and  see  that  he  reads  it,  Virgie,  before  you 
leave  him.  If  he  asks  you  any  questions,  tell  him  please 


DYING    PRIDE.  95 

to  do  precisely  what  this  note  says,  and,  as  he  is  my 
friend,  not  to  disappoint  me." 

The  girl's  steps  were  hardly  out  of  hearing  when  Vesta 
opened  the  drawer  of  the  library-table  and  took  out  a 
package  of  papers  tied  with  a  string.  She  unloosed  it, 
and  her  father  recognized  from  where  he  sat  his  notes  of 
hand  and  mortgages. 

"Gracious  God,  my  darling  !"  exclaimed  Judge  Custis, 
"  how  came  you  by  those  papers  ?" 

"  They  are  to  be  mine  to-night,  father — in  one  hour. 
The  moment  they  become  mine  they  will  be  yours." 

"  Why,  Vessy,"  said  the  Judge,  "  if  they  are  yours  even 
to  keep  a  minute,  the  shortest  way  with  them  is  up  the 
chimney !" 

He  made  a  stride  forward  to  take  them  from  her  hand. 
She  laid  them  in  her  lap  and  looked  at  him  so  calmly 
that  he  stopped. 

"You  may  burn  the  house, papa,"  she  said,  "it  is  still 
your  own.  But  these  papers  you  could  only  burn  by  a 
crime.  It  would  be  cheating  an  honorable  man." 

"  Honorable  !     Who  ?"  the  Judge  exclaimed. 

"  He  who  is  to  be  my  husband." 

"  You  marry  Meshach  Milburn  !"  shouted  the  Judge, 
"  O  curse  of  God  !— not  him  ?" 

"  Yes,  this  night,"  answered  Vesta  ;  "  I  respect  him.  I 
hold  these  obligations  by  his  trust  in  me.  They  are  my 
engagement  ring." 

Judge  Custis  raised  a  loud  howl  like  a  man  into  whom 
a  nail  is  driven,  and  fell  at  his  daughter's  feet  and  clasped 
her  knees. 

"This  is  to  torture  me,"  he  cried ;  "he  has  not  dared 
to  ask  you,  Vesta  ?" 

"Yes,  and  my  word  is  passed,  father.  Shall  that  word, 
the  word  of  a  Custis,  be  less  than  a  Milburn's  faith.  By 
the  love  he  bore  me,  Mr.  Milburn  gave  me  these  debts  for 
my  dower — a  rare  faith  in  one  so  prudent.  If  I  do  not 
marry  him,  they  will  be  given  back  to  him  this  night." 


96  THE   ENTAIL'ED   HAT. 

"  Then  give  them  back,  my  child,  and  save  your  soul  and 
your  purity,  lest  I  live  to  be  cursed  with  the  sight  of  my 
noble  daughter's  shame  ?  This  marriage  will  be  unholy, 
and  the  censure  to  follow  it  will  be  the  bankruptcy  of 
more  than  our  estate — of  our  simple  fame  and  old  family 
respect.  We  have  friends  left  who  would  help  us.  If 
you  marry  Milburn,  they  will  all  despise  and  repudiate 
us." 

"I  do  not  believe  it,"  said  Vesta.  "The  sense  and 
courage  of  that  gentleman — he  is  a  gentleman,  for  I  have 
seen  him,  and  a  gentleman  of  many  gifts — will  compel 
respect  even  where  false  pride  and  family  pretension  ap 
pear  to  put  him  down.  Who  that  underrates  him  will 
make  any  considerable  sacrifice  to  assist  us  ?  Your  sons, 
— will  they  do  it?  Then  by  what  right  do  they  decide 
my  marriage  choice  ?  No,  father,  I  only  do  my  part  to 
support  our  house  in  its  extremity,  as  these  gentlemen 
and  others  have  done  before." 

She  pointed  to  the  old  portraits  of  Custises  on  the  wall. 
If  any  of  them  looked  dissatisfied,  he  met  a  countenance 
haughty  as  his  own. 

"  Vesta,"  her  father  called,  "you  know  you  do  not  love 
this  man?" 

Looking  back  a  minute  at  the  longing  in  his  face, 
which  now  wore  the  solicitude  of  personal  affection,  she 
melted  under  it. 

"  No,  father,"  she  said,  with  a  burst  of  tears.  "  I  love 
you." 

She  threw  her  arms  around  him  and  kissed  him  long 
and  fondly,  both  weeping  together.  He  went  into  a  fit  of 
grief  that  admitted  of  no  conversation  till  it  was  partly 
spent,  and  at  last  lay  with  his  gray  hairs  folded  to 
her  heaving  bosom,  where  the  compensation  of  his  love 
made  her  sacrifice  more  precious. 

"  I  feel  that  I  am  doing  right,  father,"  she  said  tenderly. 
"  Till  now  I  have  had  my  doubts.  No  other  young  heart 


DYING   PRIDE.  97 

is  wronged  by  my  taking  this  step ;  I  have  never  been 
engaged,  and  it  now  seems  providential,  as  I  could  not 
then  have  gone  to  your  assistance  without  injuring  my 
self  and  another ;  and  your  debts  are  too  great  for  any  but 
this  man  to  settle  them.  Your  life  has  been  one  long 
sacrifice  for  me,  and  not  a  cloud  has  darkened  above  me 
till  this  day,  giving  me  the  first  shower  of  sorrow,  which  I 
trust  will  refresh  my  soul,  and  make  its  humility  grow. 
Oh,  father,  it  would  rejoice  me  so  much  if  you  could  re 
spond  to  my  sacrifice  with  a  better  life  !" 

"  God  help  me,  I  will !"  he  sobbed. 

"  That  is  very  comforting  to  me.  I  will  not  enumerate 
your  omissions,  dear  father,  but  if  this  important  step  in 
my  life  does  not  arrest  some  sad  tendencies  I  see  in  you, 
the  disappointment  may  break  me  down.  Intemperance 
in  you — a  judge,  a  gentleman,  a  husband,  and  a  father 
—  is  a  deformity  worse  than  Mr.  Milburn's  honest,  un 
fashionable  hat.  Do  you  not  feel  happier  that  my  hus 
band  is  not  to  be  a  drunkard  ?" 

"  He  has  not  that  vice,  thank  God !"  admitted  the 
Judge. 

"Be  his  better  example,  father,  for  I  hope  to  see  you 
influence  him  to  be  kind  to  me,  and  the  sight  of  you 
walking  downward  in  his  view  will  degrade  me  more 
than  bearing  his  name  or  sharing  his  eccentricities.  Oh, 
if  you  love  me,  let  not  your  dear  soul  slide  out  of  the 
knowledge  of  God !" 

"  Pray  for  me,  dear  child  !  My  feet  are  slippery  and 
my  knees  are  weak." 

"  Begin  from  this  moment  to  lean  on  Heaven,"  said 
Vesta.  "  It  is  better  than  this  world's  consideration. 
Oh,  what  would  strengthen  me  now  but  God's  approval, 
though  I  go  into  a  captivity  I  dreamed  not  of.  Even 
there  I  can  take  my  harp  beneath  the  willows,  like  them 
in  Babylon,  and  praise  my  Maker." 

She  sat  at  her  piano  and  sang  the  hymn  the  young 
7 


9  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

consumptive,  Rev.  Mr.  Eastburn,  composed  in  her  grand 
father's  house,  taking  it  from  the  Episcopal  collection  : 

"  O  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

Bright  in  Thy  deeds  and  in  Thy  name, ' 
Forever  be  Thy  name  adored, 
Thy  glories  let  the  world  proclaim  ! 

"  O  Jesus,  Lamb  once  crucified 

To  take  our  load  of  sins  away, 

Thine  be  the  hymn  that  rolls  its  tide 

Along  the  realms  of  upper  day  ! 

"  O  Holy  Spirit  from  above, 

In  streams  of  light  and  glory  given, 
Thou  source  of  ecstacy  and  love, 
Thy  praises  ring  through  earth  and  heaven  !" 

As  her  voice  in  almost  supernatural  clearness  and  sweet 
ness  filled  the  two  large  rooms,  and  died  away  in  melody, 
she  rose  and  kissed  her  father  again,  and  said,  "  Courage, 
love  !  we  shall  be  happy  still." 

A  knock  at  the  door  and  there  entered  the  young 
clergyman  she  had  sent  for,  a  sandy-haired,  large-blue- 
eyed,  boyish  person,  with  a  fair  skin  easily  freckled,  and 
a  look  of  youthful  chivalry  under  his  sincere  Christian 
humility. 

"  Good-evening,  William,"  Vesta  spoke  •  "  I  did  not  ex 
pect  to  see  you  till  we  reached  the  church.  But  sit,  and. 
I  will  answer  your  questions.  Father,  you  are  to  go  with 
me  to  the  church — you  and  Virgie.  Mr.  Tilghman  is  to 
marry  us." 

"  Now,  Vesta,"  spoke  the  young  man,  as  her  father  left 
the  room,  "  whom  are  you  going  to  marry,  cousin,  in  such 
haste  as  this  ?" 

"  Did  you  have  the  church  made  ready,  William,  as  I 
requested  ?" 

"  I  did.     The  sexton  is  there  now,  lighting  the  fire." 

"  I  thought  you  were  loyal  as  ever,  William,  and  de- 


DYING   PRIDE.  99 

pencled  upon  you.     Thanks,  dear  friend  !    I  am  to  marry 
Mr.  Meshach  Milburn  at  nine  o'clock." 

A  cloud  came  over  the  young  man's  serene  face,  though 
his  features  retained  their  habitual  sweetness. 

"  I  can  marry  you,  cousin,  even  to  Meshach  Milburn," 
he  said,  "if  that  is  your  wish.  Why  do  you  marry 
him?" 

"  It  is  not  loyal  in  you  to  ask,  William,  but  I  will  give 
you  this  answer :  he  has  asked  me.  He  is  also  devoted 
and  rich.  To  avoid  excitement,  possibly  some  opposi 
tion,  though  it  would  be  vain,  we  are  to  be  married  with 
out  further  notice,  and  papa  is  to  give  me  away." 

Silent  for  a  moment,  the  young  rector  exclaimed  : 

"Cousin  Vesta,  have  I  lived  to  see  you  a  mercenary 
woman?  Has  this  man's  asserted  wealth  found  you  cold 
enough  to  want  it,  when  love  has  been  so  generously  of 
fered  you  by  almost  every  young  man  of  station  in  this 
region,  and  from  abroad — even  by  me  ?"  he  said,  after  a 
pause.  "  The  scar  is  on  my  heart  yet,  cousin.  No,  I 
will  not  believe  such  a  thing  of  you.  There  is  a  reason 
back  of  the  fact." 

"  William,  if  you  respected  me  as  you  once  said  you 
ever  would,  like  your  sister,  you  would  not  add  this  night 
the  weight  of  your  doubt  to  my  other  burdens,  but  take 
my  hand  with  all  the  strength  of  yours,  and  lift  me  on 
ward." 

"  I  will,"  said  the  rector,  swallowing  a  dry  spot  in  his 
throat.  "Though  it  was  a  bitter  time  I  had  when  you  re-, 
fused  me,  cousin,  the  pain  led  me  to  my  vows  at  the  altar 
where  I  minister,  and  I  have  had  the  assistance  of  your 
beautiful  music  there,  like  the  angel  I  seem  to  have  seen 
reserved  for  me,  in  place  of  you,  sitting  at  your  side!  And 
I  know  that  this  marriage  is,  on  your  part,  pure  as  my 
sister's.  No  further  will  I  inquire — what  penalty  you  are 
paying  for  another,  what  mystery  I  cannot  pierce." 

He  raised  his  hands  above  her  head  :  "  The  peace  of 


100  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

God  that  passeth  understanding,  abide  with  you,  dear  sis 
ter,  forever !" 

He  went  out  with  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  hers 
were  full  of  heavenly  light,  feeling  his  benediction  to  be 
righteous. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS. 

THE  Washington  Tavern,  or,  rather,  the  brick  sidewalk 
which  came  up  to  its  doors,  and  was  the  lounging-place 
for  all  the  grown  loiterers  in  Prfncess  Anne,  had  been  in 
the  greatest  activity  all  that  Saturday  afternoon,  since  it 
was  reported  by  Jack  Wonnell,  who  set  himself  to  be  a 
spy  on  Meshach's  errand,  that  the  steeple-hat  had  dis 
appeared  in  the  broad  mansion  of  Judge  Daniel  Custis. 

Jack  Wonnell  had  a  worn  bell-crown  on  his  head,  ex 
posed  to  all  kinds  of  weather,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
fishing  in  these  beaver -hats,  and  never  owned  an  um 
brella  in  his  life.  He  lived  near  Meshach,  in  the  old 
part  of  Princess  Anne,  near  the  bridge,  and  was  the 
subject  of  the  money-lender's  scorn  and  contempt,  as 
tending  to  make  a  mutual  eccentricity  ridiculous.  Mil- 
burn  had  been  willing  to  be  hated  for  his  hat,  but  Jack 
Wonnell  made  all  unseasonable  hats  laughable,  the  more 
so  that  he  was  nearly  as  old  a  wearer  of  his  bell-crowns 
as  Milburn  of  the  steeple-top.  Although  he  had  no  such 
reasons  of  reverence  and  stern  consistency  as  his  rich 
neighbor,  he  seemed  to  have,  in  his  own  mind,  and  in 
plain  people's,  a  better  defence  for  violating  the  standard 
taste  of  dress. 

The  people  said  that  Jack  Wonnell,  being  a  poor  man, 
could  not  buy  all  the  fashions,  and  was  merely  wearing 
out  a  bargain  ;  that  he  knew  he  was  ridiculous,  and  set 
no  such  conceit  on  his  absurdity  as  that  grim  Milburn ; 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLK5.  ivf 

and  they  rather  enjoyed  his  playing  the  Dromio  to  that 
Antipholus,  and  turning  into  farce  the  comedy  of  Me- 
shach's  error. 

Jack  Wonnell  had  partly  embraced  his  bargain  by  the 
example  of  Meshach.  A  frivolous,  unambitious,  childish 
fellow,  amusing  people,  obliging  people,  running  errands, 
driving  stage,  gardening,  fishing,  playing  with  the  lads, 
courting  poor  white  bound  girls,  incontinent,  inoffensive, 
he  had  been  impelled  to  bid  off  his  lot  of  old  hats  by 
Jimmy  Phoebus  saying : 

"  Jack,  dirt  cheap  !  Last  you  all  your  life !  Better  hats 
than  old  Meshach  Milburn's.  You'll  drive  his'n  out  of 
town." 

To  his  infinite  amusement  and  dignity,  his  appearance 
in  the  bell-crown  hats  attracted  the  severe  regard  of  Mil- 
burn,  and  set  the  little  town  on  a  grin.  The  joke  went 
on  till  Jimmy  Phoebus.  Judge  Custis,  and  some  others 
prompted  Jack  Wonnell,  with  the  promise  of  a  gallon  of 
whiskey,  to  ask  Meshach  to  trade  the  steeple-top  for  the 
bell-crown.  The  intense  look  of  outrage  and  hate,  with 
the  accompanying  menace  his  townsman  returned,  really 
frightened  Jack,  and  he  had  prudently  avoided  Milburn 
ever  since,  while  keeping  as  close  a  watch  upon  his 
movements  and  whereabouts  as  upon  some  incited  bull 
dog,  liable  to  appear  anywhere. 

In  this  way  Jack  Wonnell  had  followed  Meshach  to 
the  court-house  corner,  where  stood  Judge  Custis's  brick 
bank — which,  of  late,  had  done  little  discounting — and, 
from  the  open  space  between  it  and  the  court-house  in 
its  rear,  he  peeped  after  Milburn  up  the  main  cross 
street,  called  Prince  William  Street,  which  stopped  right 
at  Judge  Custis's  gate.  There,  in  the  quiet  of  early  after 
noon,  he  heard  the  knocker  sound,  saw  the  door  open, 
and  beheld  the  Entailed  Hat  disappear  in  the  great  door 
way.  Then,  scarcely  believing  himself,  Wonnell  ran  back 
to  the  tavern,  and  exclaimed ; 


102  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"May  I  be  struck  stone  dead  ef  ole  Meshach  ain't 
gvvyn  in  to  the  Jedge's !" 

"You're  a  liar  !"  said  Jimmy  Phoebus,  promptly,  catch 
ing  Jack  by  the  back  of  the  neck,  and  pushing  his  bell- 
crown  down  till  it  mashed  over  his  nose  and  eyes.  "  What 
do  you  mean  by  tellin'  a  splurge  like  that  ?" 

"I  seen  him,  Jimmy,"  was  the  bell-crowned  hero's 
smothered  cry ;  "  if  I  didn't,  hope  I  may  die  !" 

"What  did  he  go  therefor?" 

"I  can't  tell,  Jimmy,  to  save  my  life  !" 

"  Whoo-oo-p  !"  cried  Phoebus,  waving  his  old  straw  hat, 
itself  nearly  out  of  season.  "  If  this  is  a  lie,  Jack  Won- 
nell,  I'll  make  you  eat  a  raw  fish.  Levin" — to  Levin 
Dennis — "you  slip  up  by  Custis's,  and  see  if  ole  Me 
shach  hain't  passed  around  the  fence,  or  dropped  along 
Church  Street  and  hid  in  the  graveyard,  where  he  some 
times  goes.  I'll  stay  yer,  and  make  Jack  Wonnell  ac 
count  for  sech  lyin' !" 

Levin  Dennis,  a  boyish,  curly-haired,  graceful-going  or 
phan,  walked  up  the  cross  street,  passing  Church  lane 
and  the  Back  alley,  and  slowly  turned  the  long  front  of 
Teackle  Hall,  and  went  out  the  parallel  street  towards 
the  lower  bridge  on  the  Deil's  Island  road,  till  he  could 
turn  and  see  the  three  great -chimneyed  buildings  of 
Teackle  Hall  lifting  their  gables  and  lightning-rods  to 
his  sight  in  their  reverse,  the  partly  stripped  trees  allow 
ing  that  manorial  pile  to  stand  forth  in  much  of  its  length 
and  imposing  proportions.  Lest  he  might  not  be  sus 
pected  of  curiosity,  Levin  continued  on  to  the  bridge  at 
Manokin  landing,  and  counted  the  geese  come  out  of  a 
lawn  on  a  willowy  cape  there,  and  take  to  water  like  a 
fleet  of  white  schooners.  He  ascended  the  rise  beyond 
the  bridge,  and  looked  over  to  see  if  Meshach  might 
have  taken  a  walk  down  the  road.  Then  returning,  he 
swept  the  back  view  of  Princess  Anne,  from  the  low  bluff 
of  cedars  on  another  inhabited  cape  on  the  right,  which 


PRINCESS   ANNE   FOLKS.  103 

bordered  the  Manokin  marshes,  to  the  vale  of  the  little 
river  .at  the  left,  as  it  descended  between  Meshach's 
storehouse  and  the  ancient  Presbyterian  church  of  the 
Head  of  Manokin,  seated  among  its  gravestones  between 
its  hitching-stalls  and  its  respectable  parsonage  manse. 
Nothing  was  visible  of  "the  owner  of  the  distinguishing 
hat. 

So  Levin  Dennis  returned  more  slowly  around  the 
north  wing  of  Teackle  Hall,  looking  at  every  window, 
as  if  Meshach  might  be  there ;  but  nothing  did  he  see 
except  the  dog,  which,  to  Levin's  eye,  appeared  uneasy, 
and  ran  out  of  the  gate  to  make  friends  with  him. 

"  So,  Turk  !"  Dennis  muttered,  patting  the  dog's  head, 
"  no  wonder  you're  scared,  boy,  to  see  old  Meshach  Mil- 
burn  come  in." 

Teackle  Hall,  according  to  rumor,  was  built  at  the  close 
of  the  revolutionary  war  by  an  uncle,  or  grand-uncle,  of 
Judge  Custis,  who  came  from  Virginia,  somewhere  between 
Accomac  and  Northampton  counties,  and  went  into  ship 
building  on  the  Manokin,  adding  some  privateering  and 
banking,  too,  and  once,  going  abroad,  he  brought  back 
from  some  ducal  residence  the  plan  of  Teackle  Hall,  as 
Judge  Custis  found  it  on  his  coming  into  the  property. 

It  was  nearly  two  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  would 
have  made  three  respectable  churches,  standing  in  line, 
with  their  sharp  gables  to  the  front,  the  bold  wings  con 
nected  with  the  bolder  centre  by  habitable  curtains  or 
colonnades,  in  which  panels  of  slate  or  grained  stone 
made  an  attic  story  above  the  lines  of  windows,  and 
lintels  and"  sills  of  the  same  stone,  with  high  keystones, 
capped  every  window  in  the  many-sided  surface  of  the 
whole  stately  block,  all  built  of  brick  brought  over  in 
vessels  from  the  western  shore,  or  possibly  from  the 
North,  or  Europe,  and  painted  a  gray  stone  color. 

Its  central  gable  had  deep  carved  eaves,  and  a  pedi 
ment-base  to  shed  rain,  and  a  large  circular  window  in 


104  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

that  pediment.  The  two  mighty  chimneys  of  that  centre 
were  parallel  with  the  ridge  of  the  roof,  and  rose  nearly 
from  the  middle  of  the  two  opposite  slopes,  bespeaking 
four  great  fireplaces  below,  and  a  flat,  low-galleried  ob 
servatory  upon  the  roof  gave  views  of  portions  of  the 
bay  on  clear  days. 

The  wings  of  Teackle  Hall  had  similar,  but  lower, 
chimneys,  astraddle  of  their  roofs,  and  forest  trees — oak, 
gum,  holly,  and  pine,  with  a  great  willow,  and  some  tawny 
cedars,  and  bushes  of  rose  and  lilac — dotted  the  grassy 
lawn.  The  Virginia  creeper  and  wild  ivy  climbed  here 
and  there  to  the  upper  windows,  and  a  tall,  broad,  pan 
elled  doorway,  opening  on  a  low,  open  portico  platform 
with  steps,  seemed  to  say  to  visitors :  "  Men  of  port  and 
consideration  come  in  this  way,  but  inferiors  enter  by 
some  of  the  smaller  doors  !" 

Levin  Dennis,  who  had  never  sounded  that  knocker, 
though  he  had  often  taken  his  terrapins  to  the  kitchen, 
stared  in  concern  at  the  door  where  it  was  reported  Me- 
shach  Milburn  had  gone  in,  and  would  hardly  have  been 
surprised  if  that  intruder  had  now  appeared  at  one  of  the 
three  deep  windows  over  the  door  with  a  firebrand  in  his 
hand. 

Levin  muttered  to  himself:  "Rich  folks,  I  reckon, 
must  make  a  trade.  Maybe  it's  hosses — maybe  not.  I 
know  it  ain't  hats." 

He  then  turned  clown  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  only  a 
square  from  Teackle  Hall,  and  on  a  street  between  it 
and  the  main  street,  though  in  a  retired  situation,  its 
front  turned  from  the  town,  and  looking  over  the  fields 
and  farms,  like  a  good  pastor  who  is  warming  at  the  fire 
with  his  hands  behind  him. 

A  single -storied, 'long,  low  edifice  of  British  bricks, 
with  its  semicircular  choir  next  the  street,  and,  adjoining 
the  choir,  a  spire  of  more  modern  brickwork  built  up  to 
an  open  bell  cupola,  and  open  ribbed  dome,  also  of  brick, 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  105 

tipped  with  a  gilded  cross,  the  ivy  was  greenly  matted 
all  round  the  choir,  and  ran  along  the  side  of  the  church, 
where  Levin  Dennis  walked  under  four  tall,  round-topped 
windows  of  stained  and  wired  glass,  till  he  came  to  the 
end  gable  or  front  of  the  church,  standing  in  unworldly 
contemplation  of  the  graveyard  and  the  back  fields. 

There,  since  the  Stamp  Act  Congress,  or  when  Prin 
cess  Anne  was  not  half  a  century  old,  the  old  church  had 
taken  its  stand,  backed  up  to  the  town,  recluse  from  its 
gossip.  Between  its  tall  round  doors,  with  little  win 
dow-panes  like  spectacles  let  into  their  panels,  the  ivy 
vine  arose  in  form  like  the  print  of  The  Crucified,  reach 
ing  out  its  stems  and  tendrils  wide  of  the  one  glorified 
window  in  the  gable,  in  whose  red  dyes  glimmered  the  tri 
umph  of  a  bloody  countenance.  The  mossy  walls,  often 
scraped,  the  mossified  pavement,  the  greenish  tombs  of 
marble  under  the  maples  and  firs,  showed  the  effect  of 
shade,  solitude,  and  humidity  upon  all  things  of  brick  in 
this  climate,  where  wood  was  already  rising  into  favor  as 
building  material,  but  to  the  detraction  of  picturesque- 
ness  and  all  the  appearance  of  antiquity. 

No  sign  of  the  unpopular  townsman  was  to  be  seen 
anywhere,  but,  as  Levin  Dennis  peeked  around  the  foliage 
in  the  yard  he  beheld  a  man  he  had  never  observed  be 
fore,  and  of  a  tall,  bearded,  suspicious,  and  ruffianly  ex 
terior,  lying  flat  on  the  top  of  a  memorial  vault,  with 
his  head  and  feet  half  concealed  in  some  cedar  bram 
bles, 

"  Hallo  !"  Dennis  shouted. 

"What  do  you  hallo  for?"  spoke  the  man;  "don't  you 
never  come  to  a  churchyard  to  git  yer  sins  forgive  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  terrapin-finder,  "  not  till  I  knows  I  has 
some  sins." 

"  What  air  you  prowlin'  about  the  church  then  fur, 
anyhow  ?"  demanded  the  stranger,  standing  up  in  his 
boots,  into  which  his  trousers  were  tucked  ;  and  he  stood 


106  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

such  a  straight,  long-limbed,  lithe  giant  of  a  man  that 
Levin  saw  he  could  never  run  away,  even  if  the  intruder 
meant  to  chew  him  up  right  there. 

"  I  ain't  a  prowlin',  friend,"  answered  Levin  Dennis. 
"I  was  jess  a  lookin'." 

"Lookin'  fur  what,  fur  which,  fur  who?"  said  the  man, 
taking  a  step  towards  Dennis,  who  felt  himself  to  be  no 
bigger  than  one  of  the  other's  long,  ditch-leaping,  goocl- 
for-wading  legs. 

"Why,  I  was  jess  a  follerin'  a  man — that  is,  friend,  not 
'zackly  a  man,  but  a  hat." 

"  A  hat  ?"  The  man  walked  up  to  Dennis  this  time,  and 
stood  over  him  like  a  pine-tree  over  a  sucker.  "Yer's 
yer  hat,"  pulling  an  old  straw  article,  over-worn,  from 
Dennis's  head.  "  No  wind's  a  blowin'  to  blow  hats  into 
graveyards.  Or  did  you  set  yer  hat  under  a  hen  in  yere, 
by  a  stiffy  ?" 

Dennis  looked  up,  laughing,  though  not  all  at  ease,  but 
his  amiable  want  of  either  intelligence  or  fear,  which  be 
long  near  together,  made  his  most  natural  reply  to  the 
pertinacious  intruder  a  disarming  grin. 

"  No,  man,"  Dennis  said,  "  it  was  a  hat  on  a  man's 
head — ole  Meshach  Milburn's  steeple-top.  I  was  a  fol 
lerin'  of  him." 

"  Stow  your  wid !"  the  man  clapped  the  hat  back  on 
Levin's  head.  "  You're  a  poor  hobb,  anyhow.  Is  thair 
any  niggers  to  sell  hereby  ?" 

"  Oh,  that's  your  trade,  nigger  buyin'  ?  Well,  there's 
mighty  few  niggers  to  sell  in  Prencess  Anne.  Unless" — 
here  a  flash  of  intelligence  shone  in  Levin's  eyes — "un 
less  that's  what's  took  ole  Meshach  Milburn  to  Jedge 
Custis's.  He  goes  nowhar  unless  there's  trouble  or 
money  for  him" 

"And  where  is  Judge  Custis's,  you  rum  chub?" 

"  Yander  !"  pointing  to  Teackle  Hall. 

"  Ha  !  that  is  a  Judge's  ?     And  niggers  ?     Broke,  too  ! 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  107 

Well,  it's  no  hank  for  a  napper  bloke.  So  bingavast ! 
Git !  .  Whar's  the  tavern  ?" 

"  I'm  a-goin'  right  thair,"  answered  Levin,  much  re' 
lieved.  "  You  must  be  a  Yankee,  or  some  other  furriner, 
sir." 

"  No,  hobb  !  I'm  vvorkin'  my  lay  back  to  Delaware 
from  Norfolk,  by  pungy  to  Somers's  cove.  Show  me  to 
the  tavern  and  I'll  sluice  your  gob.  I'll  treat  you  to 
swig." 

At  the  prospect  of  a  drink,  of  which  he  was  too  fond, 
Levin  led  the  way  to  the  Washington  Tavern,  where  there 
was  a  material  addition  to  the  attendance  since  Jimmy 
Phoebus  had  called  to  every  passer-by  that  Meshach  Mil- 
burn,  on  the  testimony  of  Jack  Wonnell,  had  actually 
been  and  gone  and  disappeared  in  Judge  Custis's  door 
way,  and  nearly  a  dozen  townsfolks  were  now  discussing 
the  why  and  wherefore,  when,  suddenly,  Levin  Dennis 
came  out  of  Church  Street  with  a  man  over  six  feet  high, 
of  a  prodigious  pair  of  legs,  and  arms  nearly  as  long,  with 
a  cold,  challenging,  yet  restless  pair  of  blue  eyes,  and 
with  reddish-brown  beard  and  hair,  coarse  and  stringy. 
The  free  negro,  Samson  Hat,  being  a  little  way  off,  was 
observed  to  cast  a  beaming  glance  of  admiration  at  the 
athletic  proportions  of  the  stranger,  who  looked  as  if  he 
might  shoulder  an  ox,  or  outrun  a  horse. 

"  Hallo !"  exclaimed  Jimmy  Phcebus,  looking  the 
stranger  over  boldly,  yet  with  indifference,  at  last.  "  You're 
cuttin'  a  splurge,  Levin,  too.  Where's  Meshach  ?" 

"  Can't  see  no  sign  of  him,  Jimmy.  Guess  Jack  Won 
nell  hit  it,  an'  he's  gone  in  the  Jedge's.  Mebbe  he's  buyin' 
of  Jedge  Custis's  niggers.  That's  this  gentleman's  busi 
ness." 

Jimmy  Phcebus,  himself  no  slight  specimen  of  a  man, 
gave  another  glance  at  the  stranger  from  the  black  cher 
ries  of  his  eyes,  and,  apparently  no  better  satisfied  with 
the  inspection,  made  no  sign  of  acquaintance. 


108  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Whoever  ain't  too  nice  to  drink  with  a  nigger  buyer," 
said  the  man,  independently,  "  can  come  in  and  set  up 
his  drink,  with  my  redge,  for  I'm  rhino-fat  and  just  rot 
ten  with  flush." 

There  was  a  pause  for  somebody  to  take  the  initiative, 
but  Jimmy  Phcebus,  turning  his  big,  broad  Greekish  face 
and  small  forehead  on  the  stranger,  remarked  : 

"  I  never  tuk  a  drink  with  a  nigger  buyer  yit,  and,  by 
smoke  !  I  reckon  I'm  too  old  to  begin." 

The  man  stopped  and  measured  Jimmy  up  in  his  eye. 

"  Humph  !"  he  said  with  a  sneer,  "  you  look  to  be  a 
little  more  than  half  nigger  yourself.  If  I  was  dead 
broke  I'd  run  you  to  market  an'  git  my  price  for  you." 

"  No  doubt  of  it  whatever,  as  fur  as  you're  concerned," 
said  Jimmy,  unexcited,  while  the  man  pushed  Levin  Den 
nis  in  towards  the  bar. 

Either  the  new  movement  of  Meshach  Milburn,  or  the 
example  of  the  strange  man,  set  Princess  Anne  in  a  tipsy 
condition  that  day.  The  stranger  was  full  of  money,  and 
treating  indiscriminately,  and  the  pavement  before  the 
hotel  was  continually  beset  with  the  loiterers,  and  the 
bar  took  money  and  spread  mischief.  So  when,  an  hour 
after  dark,  the  unpopular  townsman,  avoiding  the  crowd, 
passed  by  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  nearest  his 
own  lodging,  one  of  the  loudest  and  most  unanimous 
yells  he  had  ever  heard  in  his  experience,  rang  out  from 
the  Washington  Tavern. 

"  Steeple  -top  !  Steeple -top!  Old  Meshach's  loose. 
Whoo-o-op !" 

"  Laugh  on  !"  thought  Meshach, "  till  now  I  never  knew 
the  meaning  of  '  let  them  laugh  who  win.'" 

He  felt  confirmed  in  his  idea  to  be  married  in  the 
Raleigh  tile,  and  when  he  saw  Samson  Hat,  Milburn 
said :  "  Boy,  brush  all  my  clothing  well.  Then  go  back 
to  the  livery  stable,  and  order  a  buggy  to  be  ready  for 
you  at  ten  o'clock.  At  that  hour  set  out  for  Berlin, 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  109 

and  bring  back  Rhody  Holland  with  you  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"It's  more  dan  thirty  mile,  marster,  an'  a  sandy  road." 

"  No  matter.  Take  it  slow.  I  will  write  you  a  letter 
to  carry.  Samson,  I  am  going  to  be  married  to-night  to 
the  rose  of  Princess  Anne." 

"  Dar's  on'y  one,"  said  Samson.  "  Not  Miss  Vesty 
Custis  ?" 

"  Yes,  Samson.  Princess  Anne  may  now  have  some 
thing  to  howl  at.  The  poor  girl  may  be  lonesome,  as, 
no  doubt,  she  will  be  dropped  everywhere  on  my  ac 
count,  and  not  a  soul  can  I  think  of,  to  be  my  young 
lady's  maid,  unless  it  is  Rhody." 

"  Yes,  Marster,  wid  all  your  money  you're  pore  in 
friends  ;  in  women-friends  you  is  starved." 

"  You  may  go  with  me  to  the  church,"  said  Meshach, 
"  I  suppose  you  want  to  see  me  married." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Dat  I  do  !  Wouldn't  miss  dat  fo'  my 
Christmas  gift.  I  'spect  dat  gal  Virgie  will  come  wid 
Miss  Vesty  to  de  cer'mony,  marster." 

"Perhaps  so.  You  are  not  thinking  of  love,  too,  Sam 
son  ?" 

"  Well,  don't  know,  marster.  Virgie's  a  fine  gal,  sho'. 
I  am  a  little  old,  Marster  Milburn,  but  I'll  have  to  look 
out  for  myseff,  I  'spec,  now  you  done  burnt  down  my 
spreein'  place.  Dar's  a  wife  comin'  in  yar  now.  So  if 
you  don't  speak  a  good  word  fur  me  wid  some  o'  Miss 
Vesty's  gals,  I'm  aboot  done." 

"  Well,  boy,"  Meshach  said,  "  you  have  got  the  same 
chance  I  had  :  the  upper  hand.  I  owe  you  a  nice  little 
sum  in  wages,  and  you  may  be  able  to  buy  one  of  the 
Custis  housemaids,  and  set  her  free,  and  marry  her,  or, 
be  her  owner.  You  are  a  free  man." 

Samson  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"Dat  won't  do  among  niggers,"  he  said.  "Niggers 
never  kin  play  de  upper  hand  in  love,  like  white  peo- 


110  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

pie.  Dey  has  to  do  it  by  love  itseff :  by  kindness,  mars- 
ter." 

Before  nine  o'clock  Milburn  and  his  negro  left  the  old 
store  by  the  town  bridge,  and  passing  by  the  river  lane 
called  Front  Street,  into  Church  Street,  walked  back  of 
the  hotel,  avoiding  its  triflers,  and  reached  the  church  in 
a  few  minutes  unobserved.  The  long  windows  shed  some 
light,  however,  but  as  it  was  Saturday  night,  this  was  at 
tributed,  by  the  few  who  noticed  it,  to  preparations  for 
the  next  Sabbath  morning.  Before  setting  out,  Samson 
Hat,  observing  his  employer  to  shake  a  trifle,  asked  him 
if  a  dram  of  whiskey  would  not  be  proper. 

"  No,  boy ;  this  is  a  wedding  without  wine.  I  shall 
need  all  my  wits  to  find  my  manners." 

He  entered  the  church,  and  found  it  warmed,  and  the 
minister  already  present  in  his  surplice,  kneeling  alone 
at  the  altar.  Mr.  Tilghman  arose,  with  his  youthful  face 
very  pale,  and  tears  upon  his  cheeks,  and  seeing  his  neg 
lected  parishioner  and  the  serving-man,  came  down  the 
aisle. 

"  Mr.  Milburn,"  he  said,  extending  his  hand,  "  I  hope 
to  congratulate,  after  this  ceremony,  a  Christian-hearted 
bridegroom,  and  one  who  will  take  the  rare  charge  which 
has  fallen  to  him,  in  tender  keeping.  My  endeavor  shall 
be  to  love  you,  sir,  if  you  will  let  me  !  Miss  Vesta  is  the 
priestess  of  Princess  Anne,  and  if  you  take  her  from  our 
sight  and  hearing,  even  God's  ministrations  in  this  church 
will  seem  hollow,  I  fear." 

"  To  me  they  would,"  said  Milburn,  "  though  from  no 
disrespect  to  our  pastor." 

"  You  have  been  a  faithful  parishioner,"  resumed  Tilgh 
man,  "  during  my  brief  labor  here,  as  in  my  boyhood, 
when  I  little  dreamed  I  should  fill  that  desk.  You  know, 
perhaps,  that  it  was  from  the  hopeless  love  of  my  cousin 
Custis,  I  fled  to  God  for  consolation,  and  he  made  me 
his  humble  minister." 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  II? 

"  I  have  heard  so,"  said  Milburn ;  "  or,  rather,  I  have 
seen  so." 

"Pardon  my  mentioning  a  subject  so  irrelevant  to  you, 
sir,  but,  though  I  have  surrendered  every  vain  emotion 
for  my  cousin,  her  happiness  is  a  part  of  my  religion,  and 
this  sudden  conclusion  of  her  marriage,  about  which  I 
have  asked  only  one  question,  has  urged  me  to  throw  my 
self  upon  your  sympathy." 

"  What  d®  you  ask,  William  Tilghman  ?  No  matter — 
your  request  is  granted." 

"  How  have  I  won  your  favor  ?"  the  young  rector  asked, 
somewhat  surprised. 

Milburn  mechanically  picked  his  hat  from  a  pew,  and 
held  it  a  little  way  up. 

"  You  were  the  only  boy  in  this  village  who  never  cried 
after  this  hat." 

"Then  it  was  probably  overlooked  by  me.  I  was  like 
the  other  boys,  mischievous,  before  my  spirits  had  been 
depressed  by  unhappy  love,  and  I  did  not  know  I  was 
any  exception  to  their  habits." 

"  It  was  grateful  to  see  that  exception,"  said  Milburn ; 
"  hooted  people  make  fine  distinctions." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Milburn,  forgive  the  boys  !  They  are  made 
for  laughter,  and  little  causes  excite  it,  like  dogs  to  bark, 
from  health  and  exercise — scarcely  more  than  that.  The 
request  I  make  is  to  let  me  be  your  friend,  because  I 
have  been  your  wife's!  Frankness  becomes  my  calling, 
and  I  think  you  need  friendly,  cordial  surroundings  to 
bring  out  your  usefulness,  and  give  you  the  freedom  that 
will  take  constraint  out  of  your  family  life,  and,  without 
diminishing  your  good  sensibilities,  dispel  any  morbid 
ones.  This  will  open  a  way  for  Vesta  to  see  her  domestic 
career,  which,  otherwise,  might  become  so  rapidly  con 
tracted  as  to  disappoint  you  both.  You  have  seen  her 
the  idol  of  her  wide  circle,  free  as  a  bird,  indulged  by  her 
kind,  and  by  Providence  also,  till  joy  and  grace,  beauty 


112  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

and  health,  faith  and  hope  live  abundant  in  her,  and  you 
are  the  beneficiary  of  it  all.  Her  society  hereafter  you 
must  control.  May  I  become  your  friend,  and  let  my 
love  for  your  wife  recommend  me  to  your  confidence,  as 
you  to  mine  and  to  my  prayers  ?" 

"  Have  I  another  friend  already  ?"  exclaimed  Milburn, 
his  voice  quivering.  "What  wealth  she  brings  me  never 
known  before  !  William,  you  will  be  ever  welcome  to  me." 

They  clasped  hands  upon  it,  and  old  Samson  Hat,  sit 
ting  back,  was  heard  to  chuckle  aloud  such  a  warming 
laugh,  that  Meshach's  response  to  it,  in  a  sudden  pallid 
shivering,  seemed  slightly  out  of  keeping.  He  was  re 
called,  however,  by  the  entrance  of  Judge  Custis  with  his 
daughter,  and  her  maid,  Virgie. 

Vesta  was  very  pale,  but  neither  shrinking  nor  negative. 
On  the  contrary,  she  supported  her  father  rather  than 
received  his  support,  and  Milburn  saw  the  Judge's  worn, 
helpless  face,  with  the  pride  faded  from  it,  and  pity  for  his 
daughter  absorbing  every  other  feeling  of  depression. 

He  wore  his  best  cloth  suit,  with  the  coat  tails  falling 
to  his  knees  behind,  the  body  cut  square  to  the  hips,  and 
the  collar  raised  high  upon  his  stock  of  white  enamelled 
English  leather.  His  low- buttoned  vest  exposed  his 
shirt-buttons  of  crystal  and  gilt,  and  a  ruffle,  ironed  by 
Roxy's  slender  hands  with  nimble  touches,  parted  clown 
the  middle  like  sea  foam  on  shell,  and  similar  ruffles  at 
the  wrists  were  clasped  by  chain  buttons  of  pearl  and 
silver.  His  vest  was  of  figured  Marseilles  stuff,  and 
gaiters  of  the  same  material  partly  covered  his  shoes; 
and  his  heavy  seal,  with  his  coat  of  arms  upon  it,  fell 
from  a  pale  ribbon  at  his  fob.  Debtor  though  he  was, 
and  answering  at  the  bar  of  the  church  to  a  heavy  per 
sonal  and  family  judgment,  his  large  and  flowing  lines  of 
body,  deeply  cut  chin,  full  eyes,  and  natural  height  and 
grace  of  stature  made  him  a  marked  and  noble  presence 
anywhere. 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  1 13 

Vesta  Custis,  dropping  off  a  mantle  of  blue  velvet  at  a 
touch  of  her  maid,  stood  in  a  party  dress  of  white  silk, 
the  neck,  shoulders,  and  arms  bare  ;  and,  as  she  halted  a 
minute  in  the  aisle,  Virgie  struck  the  cloth  sandals  from 
her  mistress's  white  slippers  of  silk,  and,  removing  her 
hood  of  home-embroidered  cloth,  a  veil  of  white  fell  to 
her  train.  The  dingy  light  from  the  lamps  of  whale-oil 
gathered,  like  poor  folks'  children's  marvelling  eyes, 
around  the  pair  of  diamonds  in  her  delicately  moulded, 
but  alert  and  generous  ears.  Her  fine  gold  watch-chain, 
twice  dependent  from  her  neck,  disappeared  in  the  snowy 
mould  of  her  bosom,  on  whose  heaving  drift  swam  a  mag 
nolia-bud  and  blossom,  each  with  a  leaf.  Her  father's 
picture,  in  a  careful  miniature  set  in  pearls,  lay  higher 
on  her  breast,  fastened  by  a  pearl  necklace.  Her  hands 
were  covered  with  white  gloves,  and  her  arms  were  with 
out  ornament.  Her  hair,  dropping  in  dark  ringlets  around 
her  forehead  and  temples,  was  combed  upward  farther 
back,  and  then  gathered  around  a  pearl  comb  in  high 
braids,  and  the  plentiful  loops  drooped  to  her  shoul 
der. 

Milburn  glanced  at  the  treasures  of  her  peerless  bod 
ily  charms,  never  till  now  revealed  to  his  sight,  and  their 
splendor  almost  made  him  afraid. 

Never  had  he  been  at  a  theatre,  a  ball,  or  anywhere 
from  which  he  could  have  foreseen  a  swan-like  neck  and 
bosom  sculptured  like  these,  and  arms  as  white  as  the 
limbs  of  the  silver-maple,  and  warmed  with  bridal-life 
and  modesty. 

Her  lips,  parted  and  red,  her  great  rich  eyes  a  goddess 
might  have  commanded  through,  with  their  eyebrows  of 
raven-black,  like  entrances  to  the  caves  of  the  Cumaean 
sibyl,  her  small  head  borne  as  easily  upon  her  neck  as  a 
dove  upon  a  sprig — all  flashed  upon  Milburn's  thrilled 
yet  flinching  soul,  as  the  revelation  of  a  divinity. 

As  she  stepped  forward  he  spoke  to  her  with  that  bold 
8 


114  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

instinct  or  ecstasy  she  had  observed  when  she  first  ad 
dressed  him  in  her  father's  house,  ten  hours  before. 

"You  have  dressed  yourself  for  me?"  he  said. 

"Sir,  such  as  I  coflld  command  upon  this  necessity  I 
thought  to  do  you  honor  with." 

"  For  me,  to  look  so  beautiful !  what  can  I  say  ?  You 
are  very  lovely !" 

"It  is  gracious  of  you  to  praise  me.  Shall  we  wait, 
or  are  you  ready  ?" 

He  gave  her  his  hand,  unable  to  speak  again,  and  she 
was  calm  enough  to  notice  that  his  hand  was  now  hot,  as 
if  he  had  fever.  Her  father,  at  her  side,  reached  out  also, 
and  took  the  bridegroom's  other  hand : 

"  Milburn,"  he  said,  huskily,  "  this  is  no  work  of  mine. 
My  daughter  has  my  consent. only  because  it  is  her  will." 

"  The  nobler  to  me  for  that,"  Milburn  spoke,  with  his 
countenance  strangely  flushed.  "What  shall  we  do,  my 
lady  ?" 

"  Give  me  you  arm  ;  not  that  one.  This  i*  right.  Have 
you  brought  a  ring,  sir?" 

"Yes."  He  drew  from  his  vest  pocket  a  little,  lean 
gold  ring,  worth  hardly  half  a  dollar. 

"  It  was  my  poor  mother's,"  he  said. 

Without  another  word  she  walked  forward,  her  arm 
drawing  him  on,  Virgie  following,  and  her  father  bring 
ing  up  the  rear.  Samson  Hat,  feeling  uneasy  at  being 
awarded  no  part  in  the  ceremony,  slipped  up  the  aisle  as 
far  as  the  big,  stiff-aproned  stove  in  the  middle  of  the 
church,  behind  which  he  clucked  his  body,  but  kept  his 
head  and  faculties  in  the  centre  of  the  events. 

Mr.  Tilghman  had  preceded  them  in  his  surplice,  and 
taking  his  place  at  the  altar,  with  his  countenance  pale 
as  death,  he  read  the  exordium  in  an  altered  voice  : 
"  Dearly  beloved,  we  are  gathered  together  here,  and  in 
the  face  of  this  company,  to  join  together  this  man  and 
this  woman  in  holy  matrimony." 


PRINCESS   ANNE   FOLKS.  115 

"  What '  company '  is  here  ?"  thought  Vesta.  "  Not  alone 
these  poor  negroes  and  my  father ;  no,  I  feel  behind  me, 
looking  on,  the  generations  of  our  pride  and  helpless 
ease,  the  worthy  younger  suitors  I  have  been  too  exact 
ing  and  particular  to  see  the  consideration  and  merits  of, 
the  golden  hours  I  might  have  improved  my  mind  in,  with 
brilliant  opportunities  I  was  not  jealous  of,  and  which 
will  be  mine  no  more,  because  I  had  not  trimmed  my 
virgin  lamp ;  and  so  I  slept  away  my  girlhood,  till  now  I 
awaken  at  the  cry, '  The  bridegroom  cometh,'  and  I  be 
hold  !  Yes,  I  have  been  a  foolish  virgin,  and  am  surprised 
when  my  fate  is  here !  Perhaps  my  guardian  angel  also 
stands  behind  me,  the  cross  advanced  that  I  must  take, 
my  crown  concealed  ;  but  somewhere,  midway  of  this 
journey  of  life,  she  may  give  it  to  me,  and  say,  'Well 
done!'" 

"  This  c  company,'  "  thought  Milburn,  with  swimming 
head,  "gathered  to  see  me  marry!  what  company?  I 
seem  to  feel,  besides  these  negroes,  my  sole  spectators, 
the  populous  forest  peering  on,  the  barefoot  generations, 
the  illiterate  broods,  the  instinctive  parents,  the  sandy 
graves.  They  give  forth  my  lost  tribe,  and  all  cry  at  me, 
'Go,  leave  us,  proud  one!  despiser,  go!'  Yet  there  is 
one  I  see,  pure  as  my  bride,  white  as  my  captive's  bos 
om,  her  soul  all  in  her  believing  eyes,  and  saying, f  Oh, 
my  son,  it  is  a  woman  like  me  that  has  come  into  your 
life,  and  her  heart  is  very  tender,  and,  by  your  moth 
er's  dying  love !  be  kind  to  the  poor  stranger  you  have 
bought.'" 

He  answered,  "I  will !"  aloud,  and  it  seemed  almost  a 
miraculous  coincidence  that  it  was  a  response  to  the  min 
ister's  question,  till  he  heard  the  corresponding  inquiry 
put  to  his  bride  in  the  clergyman's  low,  but  gentlest, 
tones : 

"  Wilt  thoti  obey  him,  and  serve  him,  love,  honor,  and 
keep  him,  in  sickness  and  in  health  j  and  forsaking  all 


Il6  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

others,  keep  thee  only  unto  him,  so  long  as  ye  both  shall 
live?" 

"  I  will !"  spoke  the  Judge's  daughter,  clear  as  music, 
and  the  Judge  drew  a  long,  deep  sigh,  saturated  with 
tears,  as  if  from  the  deepest  wells  of  grief. 

He  could  not  distinctly  answer,  as  he  joined  her  hand 
to  the  minister's.  The  minister  lost  his  office  and  speech 
for  a  moment,  joining  her  hand  to  the  bridegroom's.  The 
slave-girl  burst  into  a  wail  she  could  not  control,  and  only 
Vesta  stood  calm  as  her  bridegroom,  putting  her  cool, 
moist  hand  in  his  palm  of  fire,  and  waited  to  repeat  the 
Church's  deliberate  language. 

When  both  had  made  this  solemn  promise,  she  reached 
for  the  little  ring,  and  gave  it  to  her  old  lover,  the  min 
ister,  and  Virgie  loosed  her  glove.  Mr.  Tilghman,  his 
tears  silently  falling  upon  his  book,  passed  the  ring  to 
Meshach,  and  saw  its  tiny  circle  hoop  her  white  finger 
round,  no  bigger  than  a  straw,  yet  formidable  as  the  mar 
tyr's  chain.  His  prayers  were  said  with  deep  feeling, 
and  he  pronounced  them  man  and  wife.  Then,  shaking 
Meshach's  hand,  he  said,  with  his  boyish  countenance 
bright  as  faith  could  make  it : 

"  My  friend,  may  I  take  my  kiss?" 

Meshach  nodded  his  head,  but  his  face  was  like  a  ball 
of  fire,  and  he  hardly  knew  what  was  asked.  Mr.  Tilgh 
man  kissed  Vesta,  saying, 

"Cousin,  your  husband  is  my  friend,  and  love  and 
friendship  both  surround -you  now.  May  your  happiness 
be,  like  your  goodness,  securest  when  you  surmount  diffi 
culties,  like  those  birds  that  cannot  float  at  perfect  grace 
till  they  have  struggled  above  the  clouds." 

"  May  I  kiss  you  now  ?"  Milburn  said,  gazing  with  a 
wild  look  upon  her  rich  eyes. 

As  she  obediently  raised  her  lips,  a  strange,  warm, 
husky  breath,  not  natural  nor  even  passionate,  came  from 
his  nostrils.  The  Judge,  looking  at  this — no  pleasing 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  1 17 

scene  to  him,  the  fairest  Custis  in  two  hundred  years  be 
ing  devoured  before  his  sight  —  exclaimed  within  his 
soul,' 

"  Is  Meshach  drinking?     His  eyes  look  fiery." 

So,  after  kissing  his  daughter  also,  and  saying,  "  May 
God  reward  you  with  triumphs  and  compensation  beyond 
our  fears  !"  the  Judge  said  : 

"  Milburn,  I  suppose,  in  the  sudden  conclusion  of  this 
union,  you  have  made  no  arrangements  as  to  where  you 
will  go ;  so  come,  of  course,  to  Teackle  Hall,  and  make 
it  your  home." 

"  Is  that  your  wish,  my  dear  one?" 

Vesta  replied,  "Yes.     But  it  is  yours  to  choose,  sir." 

"You  have  some  business  with  your  father  for  an  hour," 
Milburn  said ;  "  meantime,  I  require  something  at  my 
warehouse,  and,  as  it  is  yet  early  in  the  night,  may  I 
leave  you  a  little  while  ?" 

She  bowed  her  head  again,  and,  while  they  proceeded 
towards  the  church-door,  lingering  there,  Samson  took 
the  opportunity  to  seize  both  of  Virgie's  hands. 

"  Virgie,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  all  dat  kissin  a  gwyin  on 
an'  we  black  folks  git  none  of  it  ?  Come  hyeah,  purty 
gal,  an'  kiss  yer  ole  gran'fadder !" 

Virgie  consented  without  resistance,  till  Samson  con 
tinued,  "  Oh,  what  peach  an'  honey,  Virgie  !  Gi  me  an- 
oder  one !  I  say,  Virgie,  sence  my  marster  an'  your  mis- 
tis  have  done  gone  an'  leff  us  two  orphans,  sposen  we  git 
Mr.  Tilghman  to  pernounce  us  man  an'  wife,  too  ?"  Then 
Virgie  drew  away. 

"  Samson  Hat,"  she  said,  "  what's  that  you  are  talking 
about?  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  You  are 
old  enough  to  be  my  father !" 

"  'Deed  I  ain't,  my  love.  I'm  good  as  four  o'  dese  new 
kine  o'  Somoset  County  beaux.  I'm  a  free  man.  May 
be  I'll  sot  you  free  too,  Virgie — me  an'  my  marster  yon 
der.  He  says  we  better  git  married.  'Deed  he  does." 


Il8  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  You  are  just  an  impertinent  old  negro,"  the  girl  re 
plied.  "  Do  you  suppose  any  well-raised  girl  would  have  a 
man  who  got  rich  by  cleaning  the  Bad  Man's  hat  ?  You're 
nothing  but  the  devil's  serving-man,  sir." 

"  Look  out  dat  debbil  don't  ketch  you,  den,"  said  Sam 
son.  "  You  pore,  foolish,  believin'  chile  !  Look  out  dem 
purty  black  eyes  don't  cry  for  ole  Samson  yit.  He's  done 
bound  to  marry  some  spring  chicken,  ole  Samson  is,  an' 
I  reckon  you'll  brile  de  tenderest,  Virgie." 

Virgie,  indignant,  but  fluttered  at  her  first  real  propo 
sal,  and  from  one  of  the  richest  men  of  her  color  in  Prin 
cess  Anne,  hastened  to  tie  on  her  young  mistress's  walk 
ing-shoes,  and,  as  they  all  stepped  from  the  happy  old 
church,  where  Vesta's  voice  had  so  often  pierced,  in  her 
flights  of  harmony,  to  a  bliss  that  seemed  to  carry  her 
soul,  like  a  lark,  to  heaven's  gate,  that 

"singing,  still  dost  soar,  and,  soaring,  ever  singest," 

she  saw  fall  upon  the  pavement  of  the  churchyard  the 
long,  preposterous,  moon-thrown  hat  of  the  bridegroom. 

"  Oh,  what  will  he  do  with  that  hat,  now  that  he  has 
married  me  ?"  Vesta  thought.  "  Will  he  continue  to  af 
flict  me  with  it?" 

Her  heart  sank  down,  so  that  she  felt  relieved  when  he 
kissed  her  again  at  the  church-gate,  and  saying,  "I  will 
come  soon,  darling,"  went,  with  his  man,  into  Princess 
Anne. 

"  Is  your  buggy  ready  harnessed,  Samson  ?"  his  master 
asked,  when  they  turned  the  court-house  corner. 

"Yes,  marster." 

At  this  moment  a  large  crowd  of  men,  comprising  all 
the  idle  population  in  town,  as  well  as  many  Saturday- 
night  bacchanalians  from  the  country  and  coasts,  some 
standing  before  the  tavern,  others  on  the  opposite  side 
walks  or  gathered  on  the  court-house  corner,  seeing  the 
hatted  figure  of  Meshach  rise  against  the  moonlight, 


PRINCESS   ANNE    FOLKS.  119 

raised    the    scattering    cry,  finally    deepening    into    a 
yell,  of: 

"  Man  with  the  hat  loose  !  Steeple-top  !  Three  cheers 
for  old  Meshach's  hat !" 

With  a  minute's  irresolution,  as  if  hesitating  to  go 
through  the  crowd,  Milburn  turned  into  the  main  street, 
crossed  it,  and  continued  down  the  opposite  sidewalk,  on 
the  same  side  with  his  domicile,  the  jeers  and  jests  still 
continuing, 

"  Dar's  rum  a  workin'  in  dis  town  all  arternoon,  mars- 
ter,"  his  faithful  negro  said,  "  eber  sence  dat  long  man 
come  in  from  de  churchyard  wid  Levin  Dennis.  Look 
out,  marster !" 

He  had  scarcely  spoken,  when  three  men  were  seen  to 
bar  the  way,  two  of  them  drunk,  the  third  ugly  with  drink, 
emerging  from  a  groggery  that  stood  across  the  street 
from  the  tavern,  where  further  beverage  had  been  denied 
them.  The  first  was  Jack  Wonnell.  He  hiccoughed, 
cried  "  Steeple-top !"  and  slunk  behind  a  mulberry-tree. 
The  second  man  was  Levin  Dennis,  hardly  able  to  stand, 
and  he  sat  down  on  the  groggery  step,  smiling  up  idiotically. 

The  third  man,  rising  like  a  giant  out  of  his  boots, 
with  his  arms  swaying  like  loose  grapevines,  and  his 
bearded  face  streaked  with  tobacco  drippings,  looking 
insolence  and  contempt,  brought  the  flat  of  one  hand 
fairly  down  on  the  crown  of  Milburn's  surprising  tile, 
with  the  words : 

"  Halloo  !  Yer's  Goosecap  !  Hocus  that  cady,  Old 
Gripefist !" 

The  hat,  age  being  against  it,  wilted  down  on  Me 
shach's  eyes,  and  the  heedless  stroke,  unconsciously  pow 
erful,  staggered  him. 

Samson,  who  had  drunk  in  the  giant's  qualifications 
with  an  instant's  admiration,  immediately  drew  off,  see 
ing  his  master  insulted,  and  struck  the  tall  stranger  a  blow 
with  his  fist.  The  man  reeled,  rallied,  and  sought  to  grap- 


120  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

pie  with  Samson.  That  skilful  pugilist  bent  his  knees, 
slided  his  shoulders  back,  and,  avoiding  the  clutch,  raised, 
and  threw  his  trunk  forward,  with  the  blow  studied  well, 
and  planted  his  knuckles  in  the  white  man's  eyes.  The 
tall  ruffian  went  down  as  from  a  bolt  of  lightning. 

Milburn  saw  all  this  happen  in  a  minute  of  time,  and 
his  eye,  looking  for  something  to  defend  himself,  dropped 
on  the  brick  pier  under  the  groggery  steps,  where  Levin 
Dennis  sat,  stupefied  by  the  scene.  A  brick  in  the  pier 
was  loose,  and  Milburn  stepped  towards  it.  In  this  small 
interval  the  hardy  stranger  had  recovered  himself  and 
staggered  to  his  feet,  and  had  drawn  a  dirk-knife. 

"  The  ruffian  cly  you  !"  he  bellowed.  "  Knocked  down  ! 
by  a  nigger,  too  !  Hell  have  you,- then  !" 

As  he  darted  forward,  he  described  a  rapid  circle  back 
ward  and  downward  with  the  knife,  aiming  to  turn  it 
through  Samson's  bowels,  which  he  would  have  done — 
that  valorous  servant  being  without  defence,  and  not  so 
much  as  a  pebble  of  stone  lying  on  the  bare  plain  of  the 
soil  to  to  give  him  aid — had  not  Meshach,  wresting  the 
loose  brick  from  the  pier,  aimed  it  at  the  corresponding 
exposed  portion  of  the  assassin's  body,  and  struck  him 
full  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach.  The  man's  eyes  rolled, 
and  he  fell,  like  one  stone-dead,  his  dirk  sticking  in  the 
sidewalk. 

"  Let  him  lie  there,"  said  Meshach,  contemptuously. 
"No  danger  of  such  a  dog  dying!  If  there  is  time  he 
shall  mend  in  the  jail.  Take  to  your  buggy,  boy,  and 
keep  out  of  the  way." 

The  negro  needed  no  warning,  as  the  impiety  of  strik 
ing  a  white  man  was  forbidden  in  a  larger  book  than  the 
Bible — the  book  of  ignorance.  He  disappeared  through 
the  houses  and  was  a  mile  out  of  Princess  Anne,  driving 
fast,  before  the  new  man  had  raised  his  head  from  the 
ground. 

"  Where  is  the  nigger?"  he  gasped,  his  paleface  painted 


SHADOW   OF   THE   TILE.  121 

by  his  bloodshot  eyes.  "  What  kind  of  coves  are  you  to 
let  a  black  bloke  fight  a  white  man?  I'll  cut  his  heart 
out  before  I  tip  the  town." 

He  looked  around  on  the  crew  which  had  crossed  over 
from  the  tavern  ;  Meshach  had  vanished  in  his  store  at 
the  descent  of  the  road.  Jimmy  Phoebus  was  the  only 
one  to  speak. 

"  Nigger  buyer,"  he  said,  "  if  you  are  around  this  town 
from  now  till  midnight,  or  after  midnight  to-morrer,  San- 
day  night,  ole  Meshach  Milburn  will  have  you  in  that  air 
jail  till  Spring.  By  smoke!  he'll  find  out  yer  aunty's 
cedents,  whair  you  goin,  whair  you  been,  what's  yer 
splurge,  an  all  yer  hokey  pokey.  You've  struck  the  Ark 
of  the  Lord  this  time  —  ole  Milburn's  Entailed  Hat! 
Take  my  advice  an'  travel !" 

The  man  washed  his  face  at  the  tavern  pump,  turned 
the  bank  corner,  and  disappeared  in  the  night  towards 
Teackle  Hall. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SHADOW   OF   THE   TILE. 

As  Vesta  and  her  father  stepped  over  the  sill  of 
Teackle  Hall,  it  seemed  very  dear,  yet  somewhat  dread 
to  them,  being  reclaimed  again,  but  at  the  penalty  of  a 
new  member  of  the  family  and  he  an  intruder.  To  the 
library  Vesta  and  her  father  went,  and  he  threw  some 
wood  upon  the  low  fire,  and  lighted  the  lamp  and  can 
dles  ;  then  turning,  he  took  his  daughter  in  his  arms  and 
sobbed  bitterly,  repeating  over  the  words  :  "What  shall  I 
do  !  O  what  shall  I  do  !"  She  also  yielded  to  the  luxury 
of  grief,  but  was  speechless  till  he  said : 

"My  darling,  I  have  dreamed  of  your  wedding-day 
many  a  time,  but  it  was  not  like  this.  Music  and  joy, 


122  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

free-hearted  ness,  a  handsome,  youthful  bridegroom,  our 
whole  connection  gathered  here  from  the  army  and  navy, 
from  South,  West,  and  North,  and  all  happy  except  poor 
Daniel  Custis,  about  to  lose  his  child  !" 

"  Your  child  is  not  to  go,"  Vesta  whispered  ;  "  is  not 
that  a  comfort  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  Is  it  my  pure,  poor  child  ?  Had  I 
seen  you  waste  with  consumption,  day  by  day,  like  a  dy 
ing  lilac- tree,  with  its  clusters  fewer  every  year  till  it 
deadened  to  the  root,  I  could  have  wept  in  heavenly 
sympathy,  and  learned  from  you  the  way  I  have  not 
walked.  But,  in  your  flower  to  be  a  forester's  plucking, 
stripped  from  my  stem  and  trodden  in  the  sand,  your 
pride  reduced,  your  tastes  unheeded,  your  heart  dragged 
into  the  wigwam  of  a  savage  and  made  to  consult  his 
maudlin  will —  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  !" 

"I  do  not  fear  my  husband  like  that,"  Vesta  said, 
opening  his  arms.  "My  mind,  I  think,  he  will  rather 
raise  to  serious  things,  for  which  I  have  some  desire, 
though,  I  fear,  no  talent.  Papa,  something  tells  me  that 
this  old  life  we  have  led,  easy  and  happy,  comfortable  and 
independent,  is  passing  away.  Our  family  race  must 
learn  the  new  lessons  of  the  age  if  we  would  not  see  it 
retired  and  obscure.  Is  that  not  so  ?" 

"  I  fear  it  is  God's  truth,  my  darling.  The  life  we 
have  led  is  only  a  remnant  of  colonial,  or,  rather,  of  pro 
vincial  dignity,  to  which  the  nature  of  this  republican  gov 
ernment  is  hostile.  Tobacco,  which  was  once  our  money, 
is  disappearing  from  this  shore,  and  wheat  and  corn  we 
cannot  grow  like  the  rich  young  West,  which  is  pouring 
them  out  through  the  canal  the  late  Governor  Clinton 
lived  to  open.  Money  is  becoming  a  thing  and  not 
merely  a  name,  and  it  captures  every  other  thing — land, 
distinction,  talent,  family,  even  beauty  and  purity.  The 
man  you  married  understands  the  art  of  money  and  we 
do  not." 


SHADOW   OF   THE   TILE.  123 

"  Then  are  we  not  impostors,  papa,  if  we  assume  to  be 
so  much  better  than  our  real  superiors  ?  Surely  we  must 
persevere  in  those  things  the  age  demands,  and  excel  in 
them,  to  sustain  our  pride." 

"Yes,  if  the  breed  is  gamecock  it  will  accept  any  chal 
lenge,  not  only  war  and  politics,  but  mechanics,  shop- 
keeping,  cattle-herding,  anything  S" 

"  Papa,  if  you  can  see  these  things  that  are  to  be,  so 
clearly,  why  can  you  not  take  the  wise  steps  to  plant 
your  family  on  the  safe  side  ?" 

"  Ah !  we  Virginians  were  always  the  best  statesmen, 
but  we  died  poor.  Having  no  manual  craft,  slight  book 
keeping,  and  unlimited  capacity  for  office,  we  foresaw 
everything  but  the  humiliation  of  ourselves,  and  that  we 
hardly  admitted  when  it  had  come,  so  much  were  we 
flattered  by  our  philosophic  intellects.  Our  newest 
amusement  is  to  expound  the  constitution  to  them  who 
are  doing  too  well  under  it,  although  our  fathers,  who 
made  it,  like  Jefferson  and  Madison,  died  only  yesterday, 
overwhelmed  with  debts,  and  poor  Mr.  Monroe  is  run 
away  to  New  York,  they  say,  to  dodge  the  Virginia 
bailiffs." 

"Well,  papa,  I  have  saved  you  from  that  fear.  Here 
are  your  notes  to  Mr.  Milburn  and  others.  Sit  down 
and  look  them  over  carefully  and  see  if  they  are  all 
here !" 

He  took  them  up,  with  volatile  relief  laughing  on  his 
yet  tear-marked  face,  and  said  : 

"We'll  burn  them,  Vessy." 

"  Nay,  sir,  not  till  you  have  seen  them  all.  A  single 
note  missing  would  give  you  the  same  perplexity,  and 
there  is  no  daughter  left  to  settle  it." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  smile,  yet  annoyance. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  make  a  Meshach  Milburn  of  me?" 

"  Stop,  sir  !"  Vesta  said.  "  You  might  do  worse  than 
learn  from  my  husband." 


124  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Something  strange  in  her  expression  baffled  the  Judge. 

"  Ha  !"  he  interjected,  "  have  I  a  rival  already,  daugh 
ter?  Is  his  conquest  as  complete  as  that?" 

"  I  promised  to  honor  him  a  few  moments  ago,  and  I 
believe  I  can,  papa.  All  that  you  tell  me  adds  to  my  re 
spect  for  a  man  who  seems  to  be  only  what  he  is." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  love  him,  too  ?"  the  Judge  said, 
watching  her  with  an  apprehension  a  little  like  wonder,  a 
little  like  jealousy. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  could,  papa !  That  also  I  promised  to 
do,  and  I  will  try.  But  my  work  will  all  be  a  failure  if 
you  do  not  become  reconciled  to  Mr.  Milburn.  It  was 
for  you  I  married  him,  and  to  save  your  name,  your 
peace,  your  independence,  and  the  upbraiding  we  ex 
pected  from  mamma  at  the  loss  of  her  dower.  He  is 
now  your  son-in-law,  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  the 
business  training  you  lament  that  you  do  not  possess. 
Begin  this  moment,  papa,  and  learn  his  habits.  Count 
and  identify  those  notes  !" 

Judge  Custis  looked  them  over  separately,  ran  the 
number  of  notes  he  had  given  over  in  his  mind,  and 
said  : 

"  Yes,  he  has  made  fair  restitution.  There  are  none 
missing." 

"  Restitution  implies  that  he  has  robbed  you,  papa. 
A  just  man  did  not  speak  there!  Every  penny  in  those 
debts  is  stamped  with  Mr.  Milburn's  injuries  and  coined 
by  his  sacrifices.  Have  you  spent  his  money  remember 
ing  that?" 

"  No,  my  child,  I  suppose  not." 

"  Give  me  the  notes,  papa." 

She  took  them  and  sat  thinking  a  few  moments  silently. 

"  If  I  were  a  man,  papa,"  she  said  at  length,  "  I  would 
try  to  learn  business  sense.  It  must  be  so  respectable 
to  live  with  one's  mind  able  to  help  one's  security  and 
one's  friends,  and  prepare  for  age  or  sickness  while 


SHADOW   OF   THE   TILE.  125 

strong  and  healthy.  Now,  I  think  I  will  not  let  you 
burn  these  notes  till  you  have  paid  the  price  of  them ! 
Please  write  a  transfer  of  this  house,  servants,  and  your 
manor  to  me,  Vesta yes,  Vesta  Milburn  !" 

She  blushed  as  she  spoke  for  the  first  time  her  new- 
worn  name. 

"  Alas  !"  sighed  her  father,  "  Vesta  Custis  no  more. 
I  begin  to  feel  it.  Well,  Mrs.  Milburn — I  will  give  you 
the  title — for  what  must  I  make  over  these  old  properties 
to  you  ?" 

"In  consideration  of  my  repayment  of  the  sum  of  my 
mother's  estate  to  you  for  her,  for  which  you  have  given 
her  no  security  whatever.  It  is  not  provided  for  by  these 
notes.  I  have  only  Mr.  Meshach  Milburn's  promise  that 
he  will  pay  her  this  money,  risked  and  lost  by  you,  father, 
I  fear  very  heedlessly.  Is  it  restitution,  also,  for  Mr. 
Milburn  to  strip  himself  to  pay  your  debts  to  mother?" 

"No,"  said  the  Judge,  guiltily,  "that  he  pays  on  ac 
count  of  his  passion  for  you.  He  may  cheat  you  there." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it,  because  he  has  been  faithful  to 
me  so  many  years  before  I  knew  he  loved  me.  A  man 
who  keeps  himself  pure  for  a  woman  he  has  no  vows  to, 
will  pay  her  father's  debts  of  honor  when  he  has  prom 
ised." 

Judge  Custis  found  the  issue  quite  too  warm  for  his 
convenience,  and  blushing  as  much  as  Vesta,  he  sat  down 
and  drew  up  a  conveyance  of  his  property  to  Vesta  Mil- 
burn,  in  her  own  right,  and  in  consideration  of  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars,  paid  to  Mrs.  Lucy  Custis  on  ac 
count  of  judgment  confessed  to  her  by  Daniel  Custis. 

"There,  my  dear,"  he  said,  passing  it  over,  "what  do 
you  want  with  it  ?  Are  you  not  sure  of  a  home  here  as 
long  as  you  live,  even  with  me  as  the  proprietor  ?" 

"No.  The  tragedy  nearly  finished  here  may  be  re 
peated,  papa,  and  all  of  us  be  homeless  if  you  can  go  in 
debt  again.  I  shall  not  do  that — not  even  for  my  hus- 


126  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

band,  and  here  will  stand  Teackle  Hall  to  protect  you  all 
from  the  cold  if  bad  times  ever  come  again." 

"You  have  paid  a  greater  price  for  it,  my  child,  than 
it  is  worth,  and  you  are  entitled  to  it." 

"Besides,  dear  father,  if  Mr.  Milburn  needs  any  re 
minder  of  his  promise  to  repay  mamma's  dowry,  this  will 
give  it.  He  intended  his  gift  to  be  my  marriage  dower, 
and  were  I  to  convey  it  to  you  I  should  first  ask  his  con 
sent  ;  not  in  law, perhaps,  but  in  delicacy." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  the  Judge  said  carelessly,  "I  am  glad  you 
have  such  good  reasons.  Yet,  my  beautiful,  my  last 
child, — pride  of  my  race  !  I  hate  to  see  you  so  ready  for 
this  business — this  calculation  and  foresight.  It  is  not 
like  the  Custises.  I  fear  this  man,  Milburn,  in  a  single 
day  has  thrown  his  net  around  your  nature,  and  annexed 
you  to  his  sordid  existence.  At  this  moment  the  re 
deeming  thing  about  you  is  that  you  cannot  love  him." 

"  Dear  father,  thoughts  like  that  beset  me,  too  —  the 
pride  of  aristocracy,  the  remembrance  of  what  has  been  ; 
but  I  want  to  be  honest  and  not  to  cheat  my  heart  or 
any  person.  We  have  fallen  from  our  height ;  he  has 
raised  himself  from  his  condition  ;  and  there  is  no  decep 
tion  in  my  conduct.  He  knows  I  do  not  love  him.  In 
stead  of  standing  upon  an  obdurate  heart,  I  pray  God  to 
melt  my  nature  and  mould  it  to  his  affection  !" 

Regarding  her  a  moment  with  increasing  interest, 
Judge  Custis  came  forward  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  Amen,  then  !"  he  said.  "  May  you  love  your  hus 
band!  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  love  him,  too." 

"That  is  spoken  like  a  true  man,"  VesLi  said.  "And 
now,  father,  good-night !  Be  ready  here  for  Mr.  Mil- 
burn's  arrival.  Ring  for  a  decanter  and  some  cake.  It 
will  not  hurt  you,  after  your  fast,  to  drink  a  glass  of  sherry 
with  the  bridegroom." 

He  kissed  her  and  felt  her  trembling  in  his  arms.  As 
she  started  to  go,  she  returned  and  clung  to  him  again. 
Her  face  was  pale  with  fear. 


SHADOW   OF   THE   TILE.  127 

"  Oh,  dreadful  God !"  he  muttered,  "  to  visit  my  many 
sins  upon  this  spotless  angel !  Where  shall  I  fly  ?" 

A  step  was  upon  the  porch,  and  Vesta  flashed  up  the 
stairway. 

Judge  Custis  went  to  his  door  apprehensive  and  in 
tears.  A  strange  man  stood  there,  with  his  eye  bruised 
and  blood  dripping  down  to  his  coarse,  rope-like  beard. 
He  was  in  liquor,  but  so  pale  that  it  was  apparent  by  the 
starlight. 

"Good-evening,"  said  the  man  :  "you  don't  know  me, 
Judge  Custis?  No  matter,  I'm  Joe  Johnson." 

The  Judge,  whose  tears  had  taken  him  far  from  things 
of  trivial  memory,  looked  at  the  man  and  repeated  u  Joe 
Johnson.  Not  Joe  Johnson  of  Dorchester?" 

"Yes,  Judge,  Joe  Johnson,  the  slave-dealer.  I've  bought 
many  a  nigger  from  a  Custis  when  it  was  impolite  to  sell 
'em,  Judge,  so  they  let  me  run  'em  off,  and  cussed  me  for 
it  to  the  public.  An'  that's  made  me  onpopular,  Judge 
Custis,  and  that's  my  fix  to-night." 

"You  have  been  fighting,  Johnson,  I  think,"  said  the 
Judge,  with  suppressed  dislike. 

"I've  been, knocked  down  by  a  nigger,"  said  the  man, 
with  a  glare  of  ferocity,  removing  his  hand  from  the 
wounded  eye,  as  if  it  inflamed  his  recollection  of  the 
blow  to  see  the  drops  of  blood  drip  from  his  beard  to 
the  porch.  "This  town  is  too  nice  to  abide  a  dealer  in 
the  constitutional  article,  and  so  they  set  on  me,  when  I 
was  a  little  jingle-brained  with  lush,  an'  while  the  nigger 
klemmed  me  in  the  peep,  a  little  white  villain  with  a 
steeple  bonnet  hit  me  in  the  bread-bag  with  a  stone. 
I've  come  yer,  Judge,  to  lie  up  in  the  kitchen,  an' sleep 
warm  over  Sunday,  for  the  cops  threaten  to  take  me,  if 
they  catch  me  before  midnight." 

"  I  suppose  you  know,  Johnson,  that  I  am  a  magistrate, 
and  the  proper  harborage  I  give  to  breakers  of  the  peace 
is  the  jail." 


128  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  that  limbo,  Judge  Custis,  when  I 
come  to  you.  Old  Patty  Cannon  has  done  you  many  a 
good  turn  with  Joe  Johnson's  gang  about  election  times 
in  the  upper  destreeks  of  Somerset.  Patty  always  said 
Judge  Custis  was  a  game  gentleman  that  returned  a  favor." 

The  Judge's  countenance,  an  instant  blank,  lighted  up 
with  all  a  vote-getter's  smile,  and  he  said  : 

"Joe,  you're  a  terrible  fellow,  but  dear  old  Aunt  Patty 
did  always-  take  my  part !  I  suspect,  Joe,  that  you  have 
run  afoul  of  Samson,  the  hired  man  of  Meshach  Mil- 
burn,  who  is  a  boxer,  though  I  wonder  that  he  could  get 
away  with  your  youth  and  size.  Of  course,  I  won't  let 
you  come  to  harm.  You  haven't  been  playing  your  tricks 
on  anybody's  negroes,  Joe  ?" 

"  No,  upon  my  word,  Judge  !  You  see,  I  took  a  load 
of  Egypt  down  the  Nanticoke  to  Norfolk,  and  shipped 
'em  to  Orleens.  Says  I:  'I'll  go  back  Eastern  Shore 
way,  and  see  if  there's  any  niggers  to  git.'  So  I  tramped 
it  from  Somers's  Cove  to  Princess  Anne,  an'  sluiced  my 
gob  at  Kingston  and  the  Trappe  till  I  felt  noddy  with  the 
booze,  and  lay  down  in  the  churchyard  to  snooze  it  off. 
Bein'  awaked  before  my  nod  was  out,  I  felt  evil  an' 
chiveyish,  and  the  tavern  blokes,  an'  the  nigger,  an'  the 
feller  with  the  steeple  snap,  all  decked  me  at  once." 

"Well,  Joe,  for  Aunt  Patty's  sake,  I'll  take  care  of  you. 
Go  to  the  kitchen  door,  and  I'll  step  through  the  house 
and  tell  our  Aunt  Hominy  to  give  you  supper  and  break 
fast,  and  a  place  to  get  some  sleep.  But  you  must  keep 
out  of  the  way,  and  slip  off  quietly  on  Sunday,  for  we 
have  had  a  wedding  in  the  family  to-day,  Joe,  and  though 
I  cannot  understand  your  peculiar  slang,  I  suspect  the 
bridegroom  to  be  the  man  who  knocked  the  breath  out 
of  you  with  the  stone." 

The  stranger  lifted  his  hand  from  his  bloody  eye  again, 
and  counted  the  red  drops  splashing  clown  from  his  beard. 
Judge  Custis  marked  his  scowl. 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  129 

"  Tut,  tut !"  said  the  Judge,  "  you  will  never  get  your 
revenge  out  of  that  man.  He  is  too  strong.  I  don't 
wonder  that  he  disabled  you,  and  don't  you  ever  get  into 
his  clutches,  Joe ;  for  if  he  knows  you  are  here,  I  shall 
be  forced  to  send  you  to  jail  this  very  night.  Keep  out 
of  the  hands  of  Meshach  Milburn  !  He  has  knocked  the 
breath  out  of  you,  Mr.  Johnson,  but  there  are  some  whose 
hearts  he  has  twisted  out  of  their  bodies." 

"I'll  meet  him  somewhere,"  Joe  Johnson  muttered, 
"  but  not  in  Princess  Anne  ;"  and  he  pulled  down  his 
slouched  hat  to  cover  his  eyes,  and  stalked  away  to  find 
the  kitchen. 

"Oh,  what  a  day  can  bring  forth,"  Judge  Custis  thought, 
raising  his  hands  to  the  October  stars  :  "  Meshach  of  the 
ominous  hat  the  host  in  my  parlor :  Joe  Johnson,  the 
son-in-law  of  Patty  Cannon,  the  guest  of  my  kitchen  !" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
MESHACH'S   HOME. 

VESTA  had  slept  she  hardly  knew  how  long,  but  it  was 
day,  and  slowly  her  eyes  turned  towards  the  remainder 
of  her  bed  to  see  if  it  was  occupied. 

The  bridegroom  was  not  there. 

She  reached  her  foot  into  her  slipper  at  the  bedside, 
and  at  one  swift  step  passed  before  her  mirror,  whisper 
ing: 

"  I  have  dreamed  it  all !" 

The  fresh,  flushing  skin,  and  radiant  contrasts  of  hair 
and  eyes  seemed  so  welcome  to  her  in  their  perfect  as 
surance  of  health,  that  she  whispered  again  : 

"Have  I  dreamed  it?  He  is  not  here.  Oh,  am  I 
free  ?" 

Then  a  feeling  of  reproval  came  to  her  as  the  minutest 
9 


130  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

memory  of  that  wonderful  yesterday  rose  to  her  mind,  and 
the  vow  she  had  made  to  honor  and  obey  seemed  to  have 
been  too  easily  repented.  She  looked  upon  her  hand, 
and  the  little,  thin,  pathetic  thread  of  gold  reaffirmed  her 
memory  of  the  wedding-ring,  and  at  the  next  suggestion 
a  blush  coursed  through  her  being  like  a  redbird  in  the 
apple-blossoms :  perhaps  he  had  stolen  from  her  cham 
ber  stealthily  as  he  came,  while  she,  drowned  in  deep 
slumber,  wotted  not. 

A  glance  into  the  mirror  again  revealed  those  blushes 
repeating  each  other,  like  the  Aurora  in  the  northern 
dawn,  till,  with  a  searching  consciousness,  and  her  voice 
raised  above  the  whisper,  she  said, 

"Be  still,  silly  girl  T 

Opening  the  door,  she  found  Virgie  lying  on  the  rug 
without,  warmly  wrapped  in  her  mistress's  blanket-shawl, 
but  wide  awake. 

"Virgie,  no  one  has  passed?"  asked  Vesta. 

"No,  Miss  Vessy.  Nobody  could  have  stepped  over 
me,  for  my  mind  has  been  too  awake,  if  I  did  sleep  a 
little.  Maybe  he  ain't  a-coming,  Miss  Vessy.  Maybe  he's 
ashamed !" 

"  Hush,  Virgie,"  Vesta  said,  "  you  are  speaking  of  your 
master." 

Throwing  her  morning-robe  around  her  shoulders,  the 
maiden  bride  tripped  noiselessly  to  her  mother's  apart 
ment;  the  door  was  open,  the  night  taper  floating  in  its 
vase,  and  Mrs.  Custis  lay  asleep  with  her  bank-book  un 
der  her  pillow. 

"Shall  I  awake  her?"  Vesta  thought.  "Yes,  if  I  do 
not  need  her  experience,  I  do  want  her  confidence,  and 
not  to  give  her  mine  would  seem  deceit  now." 

Vesta  kissed  her  mother  softly,  and  placed  her  cheek 
beside  that  lady's  thin,  respectable  profile  as  she  awoke, 
and  said : 

"  Daughter,  mercy  !  why,  what  has  become  of  you  ?     It 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  131 

seems  to  me  I  have  seen  nobody  for  days,  and  I  wanted 
to  express  my  indignation  even  in  my  dreams.  Where 
have  you  been  ?" 

"Oh,_mamma,"  Vesta  said,  taking  Mrs.  Custis's  head 
in  her  arms,  "  I  have  been  finding  your  lost  fortune,  which 
troubled  us  all  so  much.  It  is  to  be  given  back  to  you, 
dearest — my  husband  has  promised  to  do  so." 

"  Your  husband  ?  Whom  have  you  selected,  that  he  is 
so  free  with  his  money  ?  How  could  you  hear  from  Bal 
timore  so  soon  ?  Now,  don't  tell  me  a  parcel  of  stuff, 
thinking  to  comfort  me.  Your  father  is  a  villain,  and  my 
connections  shall  know  it." 

Mrs.  Custis  drew  her  bank-book  from  under  her  head,  and 
began  to  cry,  as  she  took  a  single  look  at  its  former  total. 

"Darling  mamma,"  Vesta  said,  "seeing  you  so  miser 
able  yesterday  on  account  of  papa's  failure,  and  your  por 
tion  gone  with  it,  I  accepted  an  offer  of  marriage,  and 
have  a  rich  man's  promise  that,  first  of  all,  your  part 
shall  be  paid  to  you.  This  house,  and  our  manor,  and 
everything  as  it  is- — the  servants,  the  stable,  and  the 
movables — belong  to  me,  in  my  own  name,  paid  for  in 
papa's  notes,  and  by  him  transferred  to  me  to  be  our 
home  forever,  so  that  a  revulsion  like  yesterday  may  not 
again  cross  the  sill  of  our  door.  Does  not  that  deserve 
a  kiss,  mamma?" 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Custis.  "  This 
is  another  trick  to  deceive  me.  I  don't  accuse  you  of  it, 
Vesta,  but  you  are  the  victim  of  somebody  and  your  father. 
Now,  who  can  this  man  be,  so  free  with  his  ready  money  ? 
It's  not  the  style  in  Baltimore  to  promise  so  liberally  as 
all  that.  Have  you  accepted  young  Carroll  ?" 

"  No,  nor  thought  of  him,  mamma." 

"  Then  it  must  be  that  widower  fool,  Hynson,  ready  to 
sell  his  negroes  for  a  second  wife  like  you." 

"He  has  neither  been  here  in  body  or  mind,"  Vesta 
said  ;  "  never  in  my  mind." 


132  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  That  would  be  a  marriage  to  make  a  talk  :  it  wouldn't 
be  like  you  to  bestow  so  much  beauty  on  a  widower.  I 
think  there  is  a  certain  vulgarity  about  an  elegant  girl 
marrying  a  widower.  She  is  so  refined,  and  he  is  gener 
ally  so  sleek  and  sensual.  Did  you  hear  from  Charles 
McLane  ?" 

"Nothing,  mamma;  let  me  ease  your  mind  by  telling 
you  that  my  husband  lives  here  in  Princess  Anne.  He 
was  father's  creditor,  Mr.  Meshach  Milburn.  He  has 
loved  me  unknown  for  years.  I  saw  a  way  to  stop  all 
scandal  and  recrimination  by  marrying  him  at  once,  that 
the  society  we  know  would  have  but  one,  and  not  two, 
subjects  of  curiosity.  Papa  saw  me  married  last  night  to 
Mr.  Milburn,  and  I  bear  his  name  this  Sabbath  day." 

"  His  wife  ?  Meshach  Milburn  ?  The  vulgarian  in  the 
play-actor's  hat?  That  man!  Daughter,  you  play  with 
my  poor  head.  It  is  going  again.  Oh-h-h  !" 

"  Mother,  it  is  true.  I  am  Mrs.  Milburo.  My  husband 
is  your  benefactor." 

It  was  unnecessary  to  say  more,  for  Mrs.  Custis  had 
really  fainted. 

"Poor  mother!"  thought  Vesta,  "I  am  confirmed  in 
my  fear  that,  if  she  had  been  told  of  my  purpose,  she 
would  have  opposed  it  bitterly." 

Roxy  was  summoned  to  assist  Vesta,  and  after  Mrs.  Cus 
tis  had  become  conscious,  and  sighed  and  cried  hysterically, 
her  daughter,  sitting  in  her  lady's  rocker,  spoke  out  plainly  : 

"  Mother,  I  appreciate  your  disappointment  in  my  mar 
riage,  though  I  should  be  the  one  to  make  complaint 
and  receive  sympathy,  instead  of  discouragement ;  but  I 
do  not  desire  it;  indeed,  I  will  not  permit  any  person  to 
disparage  my  husband,  or  draw  odious  comparisons  be 
tween  my  poverty  and  his  exertions.  If  there  are  in  my 
body,  or  my  society,  any  merits  to  please  a  man,  they 
have  fallen  to  him  under  the  law  of  Providence,  that  he 
that  hath  shall  receive.  I  pity  your  illness,  dear  mamma, 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  133 

but  I  fear  Mr.  Milburn  is  ill,  too,  for  he  has  not  been  here 
all  night,  though  he  left  me  at  the  church-gate." 

"  I  hope  the  viper  is  dead !"  Mrs.  Custis  said,  with  great 
clearness,  and  energized  it  by  sitting  up  in  bed.  Roxy 
left  the  room. 

"I  hope  he  has  been  murdered,"  said  Mrs.  Custis, 
"and  that  the  murderer  will  never  be  discovered.  If 
there  is  any  spirit  of  the  McLanes  left  in  my  brothers 
and  nephews,  they  will  wipe  out,  in  blood,  the  insult  of 
this  marriage  between  my  daughter  and  the  man  who 
set  a  trap  upon  the  honor  of  a  respectable  family." 

Vesta  arose  with  a  pale,  troubled  face,  yet  with  some 
of  her  mother's  prejudice  flashing  back. 

"He  can  defend  himself,  mamma.  I  shall  go  to  seek 
him  now,  since  he  is  so  much  hated  for  me." 

She  returned  to  her  room,  and  put  on  a  walking-suit, 
and  made  her  toilet.  In  the  library  Vesta  found  her  father 
dozing  in  a  large  chair,  with  his  feet  upon  a  leather  sofa, 
and  a  silk  handkerchief  drawn  across  his  crown,  under 
which  were  the  dry  beds  of  tears  that  had  coursed  down 
his  cheeks.  She  saw,  with  a  touch  of  joy,  that  the  sherry 
in  the  decanter  was  untouched,  and  the  two  glasses  were 
still  clean  :  he  had  not  relapsed  into  his  habits,  even 
while  making  an  all-night  vigil  to  wait  for  the  unwelcome 
son-in-law.  He  started  as  she  entered,  and  then  stared 
at  her  between  his  dazed  wits  and  a  mute  inquiry  that 
she  could  understand. 

"He  has  not  come,  papa.  And  mamma  — oh!  she  is 
severe." 

Vesta,  trembling  at  the  throat  a  moment,  rushed  into 
her  father's  wide-open  arms,  and  buried  the  sob  in  his 
breast. 

"  Poor  soul !  Poor  lamb  !  Poor  thing  !"  he  said,  over 
and  over,  while  his  temper  slowly  rose,  that  seldom  rose 
of  recent  years,  since  pleasure  and  carelessness  had  taken 
its  masculine  sting  away,  but  Vesta  felt  his  tones  change 


134  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

while  he  petted  her,  and  at  last  heard  him  say,  hoarse 
ly : 

"  By  God !" 

"  Sh — h  !"  she  whispered,  raising  her  hand  to  his 
mouth. 

"  I  will  kill  somebody,"  he  went  on,  finishing  his  sen 
tence,  and  as  she  drew  away  he  strode  across  the  room 
and  back  again,  a  noble  exhibition  of  passion  that  had 
a  noble  origin,  in  fatherly  pity. 

"Don't  lose  your  true  pride,  papa,  after  you  have  per 
severed  so  long,"  Vesta  said.  "  It  is  Sunday.  Do  you 
think  he  will  come?  What  can  have  happened?" 

"  He  will  either  come  or  fight  me,"  Judge  Custis  re 
marked.  "  I  have  tried  to  be  a  peaceable  man  and 
Christian  magistrate,  albeit  a  poor  hypocrite  in  some 
things,  but  I  am  pushed  too  far.  My  wife's  smallness  is 
worse  than  insanity  and  wickedness  put  together.  Be 
tween  her  and  this  money- broking  fiend,  and  my  neg 
lected  child  entrapped  into  such  a  marriage,  by  God ! 
I  will  clean  my  old  duelling  arms,  and  appeal  to  injustice 
itself  to  set  me  even." 

If  he  had  been  fine-looking  in  his  sincere  grief,  he  was 
thrice  more  attractive  in  his  sincere  high  spirit.  Vesta, 
admiring  him  in  spite  of  her  cares,  did  not  like  to  see 
him  in  this  unnatural  recklessness. 

"  Dear  father,"  she  said,  soothingly, "  you  have  no 
cause  of  quarrel." 

"  I  have  every  cause,"  he  cried;  "  the  proposal  to  marry 
you  was  an  insult,  for  which  I  should  have  challenged 
him,  and  shot  him  if  he  declined.  Now  he  has  married 
you  and  absconded,  using  you  and  the  Custis  honor  with 
contempt.  In  my  day  I  was  the  best  shot  in  Eastern 
Virginia.  I  can  kill  a  man  in  this  cause  as  easily  as  I 
have  broken  either  of  a  man's  arms,  at  choice,  in  my 
courting  days.  Public  opinion  will  clear  me  under  this 
provocation,  and  I  can  acquit  my  own  conscience,  abhor- 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  135 

rent  as  duelling  is  to  me.  My  sons-in-law  would  leap  to 
take  the  quarrel  up,  and  rid  the  world  of  Meshach  Mil- 
burn." 

"  That  is  mamma's  idea,  to  kill  the  debtor  who  has 
been  specially  kind  to  her.  She  says  she  will  send  for 
Uncle  Allan  McLane,  and  is  more  unreasonable  than 
ever.  Papa,  your  feelings  are  unjust.  Something  we  do 
not  know  of  has  happened  to  Mr.  Milburn.  He  was  not 
himself  all  the  while  at  the  church.  Now  that  I  recol 
lect,  he  was  not  ardent  for  the  marriage  to  be  so  soon. 
It  was  I  who  hastened  the  hour.  Let  us  be  right  in 
everything,  having  progressed  so  far  with  the  recovery  of 
our  fortunes,  and  let  us  await  the  fulfilment  of  events 
hopefully." 

"  Milburn  was  drunk  at  the  ceremony,  I  saw  that," 
Judge  Custis  said,  "  but  it  was  no  excuse.  In  fact,  what 
good  can  come  of  this  violent  alliance  ?  It  seems  to  me 
that  we  have  leaped  from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  I 
feel  ugly,  my  daughter,  and  there  is  no  concealing  it." 

"  Then  you  are  in  the  mood  to  talk  to  mother  this 
morning,"  Vesta  said,  "  while  you  have  some  unusual  will 
and  spirit.  This  resentful  sullenness  she  is  showing  I 
fear  more  than  your  passing  emotion,  papa.  Be  firm, 
yet  kind,  with  her,  and  I  will  go  to  find  my  husband. 
Yes,  that  is  my  place.  He  may  be  more  justly  complain 
ing  of  my  absence  now,  than  we  of  his  neglect." 

"You  don't  mean  that  you  are  going  to  visit  him  at 
his  den  ?" 

"  I  shall  go  there  first.  It  would  have  been  my  home 
last  night  if  he  had  required  it.  To  tell  the  truth,"  Vesta 
said,  blushing,  "  the  poor  man  was  so  kind  to  me  yester 
day,  in  spite  of  his  object,  and  so  quaint,  and,  as  it  seemed, 
dependent  on  me,  that  my  charity  is  enlisted  for  him,  and 
I  could  almost  have  married  him  from  pity." 

The  Judge's  temper  fell  a  little  in  the  study  of  his 
daughter's  blushing. 


136  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Wonderful !  wonderful !"  he  thought  to  himself;  "  that 
poor  corn-bred  fellow  has  already  made  more  impression 
on  this  girl's  pride  than  a  hundred  cavalier  gallants. 
Truly,  we  are  a  republic,  Vesta,"  he  continued  aloud, 
"  and  you  lay  down  the  Custis  character  as  easily  as 
our  old  connection,  Lord  Fairfax,  accepted  the  democ 
racy  of  his  hired  surveyor,  Mr.  Washington,  before  he 
died." 

"  I  laid  clown  the  Custis  name  yesterday,"  Vesta  said, 
"  though  not  their  better  character,  I  hope.  Papa,  there 
is  only  one  law  of  marriage ;  it  is  where  the  wife  follows 
the  husband." 

She  looked  a  little  archly  at  him,  wiping  her  eyes  of 
recent  tears,  and  though  she  may  not  have  meant  it,  he 
was  reminded  of  his  own  fear  of  his  wife. 

Aunt  Hominy  now  came  in,  having  been  told  by  Virgie 
to  prepare  coffee,  and  she  followed  Roxy,  who  brought  it 
into  the  library.  The  old  cook  had  a  strange  look,  as  of 
one  who  had  been  up  all  night  at  a  fire,  or  a  "  protracted 
meeting,"  and  she  poked  her  head  in  as  if  afraid  to  come 
farther,  till  Vesta  went  out  and  kissed  her  kindly. 

"  Poor  Aunty  Hominy !  did  you  think  I  was  sold,  or 
abused,  because  I  had  been  married?  Dear  old  aunty, 
I  shall  never  leave  you  I" 

Aunt  Hominy  had  a  countenance  of  profound,  almost 
vacant,  melancholy,  mixed  with  a  fear  that,  the  Judge  re 
marked,  "  he  had  seen  on  the  faces  of  niggers  that  had 
stolen  something." 

"Miss  Vessy,"  she  stammered,  at  last,  "  is  you  meas 
ured  in  by  ole  Meshach  ?  Is  he  got  you,  honey  ?  Dat 
he  has,  chile !  He's  gwyn  to  bury  you  under  dat  pizen 
hat.  Po'  little  girl !  Po'  Miss  Vessy  !" 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hominy,"  Vesta  said,  "  he  will  be  a  kind 
master  in  spite  of  his  queer  hat,  and  take  good  care  of 
you  and.  all  the  children ;  for  he  is  my  husband,  and  will 
love  you  all  for  me." 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  137 

A  dumb,  terrified  look  adhered  to  the  old  black  wo 
man's  face. 

"  No,  he  won't  be  kind  to  nobody,"  she  gasped.  "  You 
has  gwyn  been  lost,  Miss  Vessy.  You  is  measured  in. 
De  good  Lord  try  an'  bress  you  !  Hominy  ain't  meas 
ured  in  yit.  Hominy's  kivered  herseff  wid  cammermile, 
an'  drunk  biled  lizzer  tea.  Hominy's  gone  an'  got 
Quaker." 

"  What's  Quaker,  Aunt  Hominy  ?" 

"  Quaker,"  the  old  woman  repeated,  backing  out  and 
looking  down,  "Quaker's  what  keeps  him  from  a  meas- 
urin'  of  me  in  !" 

Then,  as  Vesta  drew  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  having 
taken  her  coffee  and  toast,  the  old  servant,  gliding  back 
in  the  depths  of  Teackle  Hall,  raised  a  wild  African 
croon,  as  over  the  dead,  giving  her  voice  a  musical  in 
flection  like  the  jingle  of  Juba  rhyme  : 

"  Good-bye,  Miss  Vessy  !  Good-bye,  Aunt  Hominy's 
baby  !  Good-bye,  dear  young  missis  !  Good-bye,  my 
darlin'  chile,  furever,  furever,  an'  O  furever,  little  Vessy 
Custis,  O  chile,  farewell !" 

The  tears  raining  upon  her  cheeks,  her  wild,  wringing 
hands  and  upflung  arms  and  shape  convulsed,  Vesta  re 
membered  long,  and  thought,  as  she  left  Teackle  Hall 
with  Virgie,  that  some  African  superstition  had,  by  the 
aid  of  dreams,  drawn  into  a  passing  excitement  the  faith 
ful  servant's  brain. 

At  the  corner  of  old  Front  Street,  and  extending  al 
most  out  upon  the  little  Manokin  bridge,  stood  Meshach 
Milburn's  two-story  house  and  store,  with  a  door  upon 
both  streets.  Though  planted  low,  in  a  hollow,  it  stood 
forward  like  Milburn's  challenging  countenance,  unsup 
ported  by  any  neighbors. 

"  Don't  it  look  like  a  witch's,  Missy  ?"  Virgie  said,  as 
Vesta  took  in  its  not  unpicturesque  outlines  and  crude 
plank  carpentry,  the  weather -rotted  roof,  the  decrepit 


138  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

chimney  at  the  far  end,  the  one  garret  window  in  the 
sharp  gable,  the  scant  little  windows  above  stairs,  and 
the  doors  low  to  the  sand. 

"  It  may  have  been  the  pride  of  the  town  fifty  years 
ago,  Virgie.  I  have  passed  it  many  a  day,  looking  with 
mischievous  curiosity  for  the  steeple-hat,  to  show  that  to 
some  city  friend,  little  thinking  I  must  ever  enter  the 
house.  But  hear  that  wilful  bird  singing  so  loud  !  Where 
is  it  ?" 

"  I  can't  tell  to  save  my  life.  It  ain't  in  the  tree 
yonder.  It's  the  first  bird  up  this  mornin',  Miss  Vessy, 
sho' !" 

"Is  not  that  larger  door  standing  ajar,  the  one  with 
the  four  panels  in  it  ?"  Vesta  asked.  "  Yes,  it  is  unfast 
ened  and  partly  open." 

The  blood  left  Vesta's  heart  a  moment,  as  the  thought 
ran  through  her  mind  :  "  He  has  been  watched,  followed 
home,  and  murdered !" 

The  idea  seemed  to  explain  his  absence  on  his  mar 
riage  night,  and,  like  a  sudden  flame  first  seen  upon  a 
burning  ship,  lighting  up  the  wide  ocean  with  its  bright 
terrors,  Vesta  saw  the  infinite  relations  of  such  a  crime : 
her  almost  secret  marriage,  her  custody  of  her  father's 
notes,  the  record  of  them  upon  her  husband's  books,  his 
last  word  at  the  church  gate :  "  I  will  come  soon,  dar 
ling,"  and  now,  this  silent  abode,  with  its  door  ajar  on 
Sunday  dawn,  before  the  town  was  up — they  might  bear 
the  suspicion  of  a  dreadful  crime  by  the  ruined  debtor 
house  of  Custis  against  their  friendless  creditor. 

This  thought,  personal  to  her  father,  was  immediately 
dismissed  in  the  feeling  for  a  possibly  murdered  hus 
band.  If  the  idea  barely  touched  her  sense  of  self,  that 
her  tremendous  sacrifice  had  been  arrested  by  Heaven, 
and  her  purity  saved  between  the  altar  and  the  nuptials 
by  the  bloodshed  of  her  purchaser  at  the  hands  of  some 
meaner  avenger,  though  not  until  she  had  redeemed  her 


MESHACHS    HOME.  139 

father  from  Milburn's  clutch,  this  idea  never  passed  be 
yond  the  portal  of  her  mind  ;  she  repulsed  it,  entering, 
and  began  to  think  of  the  easy  prey  her  husband  might 
have  been,  hated  by  so  many,  defended  by  none,  known 
to  be  very  rich,  no  loss  to  the  community,  as  it  might 
think,  in  its  financial  ignorance,  and  his  only  guard  a 
stalwart  negro  notorious  for  fighting. 

Believing  Milburn  to  deserve  better  than  his  present 
fame,  Vesta  advanced  towards  the  door  of  the  old  wood 
en  store  with  a  spirit  of  commiseration  and  awe,  and 
still  the  wild  bird  from  somewhere  poured  out  a  shriek, 
a  chuckle,  a  hurrah,  enough  to  turn  her  blood  to  ice. 

As  Vesta  pushed  open  the  old,  seasoned  door  it  dragged 
along  the  floor,  and  the  loose  iron  bar  and  padlock,  drop 
ping  clown,  made  a  ring  that  brought  an  echo  like  a 
tomb's  out  of  the  hollow  interior. 

"  'Deed,  Miss  Vessy,  I'm  'fraid  to  go  in  there,"  Virgie 
said. 

"  You  are  not  to  come  in  till  I  call  you.  But  hear 
that  bird  rioting  in  song !  Does  Mr.  Milburn  keep 
birds?" 

"  I  can't  tell,  Miss  Vessy.  That  bird's  a  Mocker.  It 
must  be  in  there  somewhere.  Oh,  don't  go  in,  Miss 
Vessy  ;  something  will  catch  you,  dear  Missy,  sho'." 

But  Vesta  was  already  gone,  following  the  piercing 
sound  of  the  native  bird,  that  seemed  to  be  in  the  loft. 

She  saw  a  little  counter  of  pine,  and  a  pine  desk  built 
into  it,  and  bundles  of  skins,  some  cord-wood,  a  pile  of 
lumber  and  boxes,  a  few  barrels  of  oil  or  spirits,  and 
dust  and  cobwebs  thick  on  everything;  and  a  little  way  in 
from  the  door  the  light  and  darkness  made  weird  effects 
upon  each  other,  increasing  the  apparent  distances,  and 
changing  the  forms ;  and  the  sun,  now  risen,  made  turning 
cylinders  of  gold-dust  at  certain  knot-holes  in  the  east 
ern  gable,  across  whose  film  she  saw  two  lean  mice  stand 
upon  the  floor  unalarmed,  and  tamely  watch  her  come. 


140  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

The  screaming  of  the  bird  was  conveyed  through  the 
thin  floor  from  above  with  loud  distinctness,  and  every 
note  of  singing  things  seemed  to  be  imitated  by  it,  from 
the  hawk's  gloating  cry  to  the  swallow's  twittering  alarm, 
with  the  most  rapid  versatility,  and  even  hurry,  as  if  the 
.creature  was  trying  over  every  bird  language,  with  the 
hope  of  finding  one  mankind  could  understand.  It  was 
idle  to  expect  to  be  heard  amid  such  clamor,  and  Vesta, 
having  pounded  on  the  floor  a  few  times,  made  her  way 
to  a  sort  of  cupboard,  that  might  turn  out  to  be  a  stair 
way,  and,  sure  enough,  a  door  opened  on  its  dark  side, 
and  light  from  above  flickered  down. 

At  this  moment  the  bird's  notes  abruptly  ceased,  and 
a  voice,  unlike  anything  she  had  ever  heard  in  her  life, 
yet  human,  spoke  in  response  to  a  more  natural  human 
voice,  both  issuing  from  above. 

The  second  voice  seemed  to  be  Milburn's ;  the  first 
voice  was  something  like  it,  yet  not  like  anything  from 
the  throat  of  man,  and  the  superstition  she  had  been  re 
buking  in  her  servant  came  with  a  thrilling  influence 
upon  her  entire  nature.  She  was  about  to  fly,  but  called 
out  one  word  as  she  arrested  herself: 

"  Gentlemen  !     Gentlemen  !" 

The  loud,  unclassifiable  voice  above  immediately  an 
swered  : 

"Gent!  Gent-gent-gent-en  !  t-chee,  t-chee  !  Gents, 
tss-tss-tss  !  Ha  !  ha  !  Gentlemen  !" 

"  May  I  come  up  ?"  Vesta  cried. 

"  Come,  p-chee  !  Come  chee  !  come  tsee  !  See  me  ! 
see  me !  see  me !  Come  p-chee !  come  see !  come  see 
me  !" 

The  last  accentuation,  in  spite  of  the  bird's  interference, 
was  sufficiently  distinct  to  amount  to  an  invitation,  and 
with  a  raising  of  her  eyelids  once  dependently  to  heaven, 
Vesta  went  up  the  stairs. 

She  put  her  head  into  a  large,  long  room,  which  took  up 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  141 

the  whole  contents  of  the  second  story,  and  was  lighted  on 
three  sides  by  the  small  windows  she  had  seen  without. 
It  had  no  carpet  or  floor-covering  of  any  kind;  the  fire 
was  gone  out  upon  the  chimney-hearth  in  the  end,  and 
the  atmosphere,  a  little  chill,  was  melting  before  the  sun 
shine  which  now  streamed  in  at  both  sides  of  the  fire 
place  and  clearly  revealed  every  object  in  the  apartment, 
— some  clothes-pegs,  a  wooden  table  with  a  blue  plate,  a 
blue  cup  and  saucer  and  a  saucepan  upon  it,  and  a  coarse 
knife  and  fork ;  a  large  green  chest,  and  a  leather  hat- 
box  ;  an  old  hair  trunk  fifty  years  old,  and  nearly  falling 
to  pieces ;  black  silhouettes,  in  little  round  ebony  frames, 
of  a  woman  and  a  man  hung  over  the  mantel,  and  be 
tween  them  a  silhouette  of  a  face  she  had  no  difficulty  in 
recognizing  to  be  intended  for  her  own. 

Stretched  upon  a  low  child's  bed,  of  the  sort  called 
trundle-bed  in  those  days,  which  could  be  wheeled  under 
the  high-legged  bed  of  the  parents,  lay  the  bridegroom,  in 
his  wedding-dress  and  gaitered  shoes,  with  his  steeple- 
crowned  hat  upon  the  faded  calico  quilt  beside  him,  and 
his  face  as  red  as  burning  fever  could  make  it. 

Vesta  only  verified  the  particulars  of  the  inventory  of 
Milburn's  lodge  afterwards,  her  instant  attention  being 
drawn  to  the  motionless  form  of  her  husband,  whose 
flushed  face  seemed  to  indicate  a  death  by  strangulation 
or  apoplexy.  She  went  forward  and  put  her  hand  upon 
him. 

"  Mr.  Milburn  !"  she  spoke. 

"  Milburn  !"  echoed  a  voice  of  piercing  strength,  though 
ill  articulated.  She  looked  around  in  astonishment,  and 
saw  nobody. 

"  Husband  !"  Vesta  spoke,  louder,  stooping  over  him. 

"  S'band  !  s'band  !  See  !  see  !"  shouted  the  wanton 
voice,  almost  at  her  elbow. 

Vesta,  with  one  hand  on  the  helpless  man's  brow,  turned 
again,  almost  indignantly,  for  the  tone  seemed  to  address 


I42  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

some  sense  of  neglect  or  shame  in  her,  which  she  had  not 
been  guilty  of.  Still,  nothing  was  to  be  seen. 

At  the  far  corner  of  the  room  was  a  step-ladder  lead 
ing  to  a  hole  in  the  loft  above ;  but  this  was  not  the  place 
of  the  interruption,  for  she  heard  the  voice  now  come  as 
from  the  chimney  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room,  nearer 
the  bed,  and  accompanied  with  a  fluttering  and  scratch 
ing,  as  if  some  spirit  of  evil,  with  the  talons  of  a  rat  or  a 
bat,  was  trying  to  break  in  where  the  prostrate  man  lay 
on  the  bed  of  oblivion. 

"  Meshach !  Meshach !"  rang  the  half-human  cry,  "  Hoo ! 
hoo  !  Vesty  !  Vesty  !  Sweet !  sweet !  sweet !  Ha,  ha  ! 
See  me  !  See  me  !  Meshach,  he !  Vesty,  she  !  She  ! 
she  !  she  !  Hoot !  hoot !  ha  !" 

Rapidly  changing  her  view,  with  her  ears  no  less  than 
her  heart  tingling  at  the  use  of  her  own  name,  Vesta  saw 
on  the  dusty  wooden  mantel  a  common  bird  of  a  gray 
color,  with  dashes  of  brown  and  black  upon  his  wings, 
and  a  whitish  breast,  and  he  was  greatly  agitated,  as  if  he 
meant  to  fly  upon  her  or  upon  some  other  intruder  she 
could  not  see. 

His  eyes,  of  black  pupils  upon  yellowish  eyeballs,  spar 
kled  with  nervous  activity.  He  flung  himself  into  the 
air  above  her  head,  uttering  sounds  of  such  mellow  rich 
ness  and  such  infinite  fecundity  of  modulation,  that  the 
old  hovel  almost  burst  with  intoxicated  song,  combining 
gladness,  welcome,  fear,  defiance,  superstition,  horror,  and 
epithalamium  all  together,  like  Orpheus  gone  mad,  and 
losing  the  continuity  of  his  golden  notes. 

The  bird's  upper  bill  was  beaked  like  a  hawk's,  his  lower 
was  sharp  as  a  lance,  and  between  them  issued  that  infu 
riated  melody  and  cadence  and  epithet  that  old  Patrick 
Henry's  spirit  might  have  migrated  into  from  his  grave 
in  the  Virginia  woods.  He  suddenly  flung  himself  from 
his  vortex  of  song  upon  the  bed  of  the  sick  man,  with  a 
twitching  hop  and  rapid  opening  and  shutting  of  the  tail, 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  143 

like  the  fan  of  a  disturbed  beauty,  and  thence  perched 
upon  Milburn's  peaked  hat,  and  with  a  convulsive  strug 
gle  of  his  throat  and  body,  as  if  he  were  in  superhuman 
labor,  brought  out,  distinct  as  man  could  speak,  the 
words, 

"  'Sband  !  'sband  !  Vesty  !  Vesty  !  Sweet !  sweet ! 
Come  see  !  come  see  !" 

Vesta,  by  a  quick,  expert  movement,  grasped  the  bird, 
and  smoothed  it  against  her  bosom,  and  soothed  its  ex 
citement. 

She  had  heard  verified  what  Audubon  avowed,  and 
had  but  recently  published  in  the  beautiful  edition  of  his 
works  her  father  was  a  subscriber  to,  that  some  said  the 
American  mocking-bird  could  imitate  the  human  voice, 
though  the  naturalist  remarked  that  he  himself  had  never 
heard  the  bird  do  it. 

The  present  verification,  Vesta  thought,  of  the  mock 
ing-bird's  supremest  power,  might  have  issued  from  its 
excitement  at  the  silent  and  helpless  condition  of  its  mas 
ter — that  master  who  had  told  Vesta  that  no  bird  in  the 
woods  ever  resisted  his  seductions  and  mystic  influence. 

"  If  that  be  true,"  Vesta  said  to  herself,  "  there  is  no 
clanger  of  this  vociferous  pet  making  his  escape  if  I  put 
him  out  of  the  window  till  I  can  see  if  his  master  speaks 
or  lives." 

So  she  raised  the  window,  and  flung  the  mocking-bird 
up  into  the  air,  and  it  came  down  and  dropped  into  the 
old  willow-tree  beneath,  and  there  set  up  a  concert  the 
Sabbath  morning  might  have  been  proud  of,  when,  in  the 
corn-fields,  the  free-footed  Saviour  went  plucking  the  milky 
ears.  Vesta  could  but  stop  a  minute  and  listen. 

The  liquid  notes  chased  each  other  around  in  circles 
of  dizzy  harmony,  as  if  angels  were  at  hide-and-seek  on 
the  blue  branches  of  the  air,  eluding  each  other  in  pure- 
heartedness,  chasing  each  other  with  eager  love,  sighing 
praise  and  happiness  as  their  supernal  hearts  emitted 


144  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

music  in  the  glow  of  ecstasy,  and  carrying  upward  the 
loveliest  emotions  of  the  earth  in  yearning  sympathy  for 
nature.  No  language,  now,  that  Vesta  could  identify, 
was  woven  into  that  maze  of  morning  song,  which  chal 
lenged,  with  its  fulness  and  golden  weight,  the  floods  of 
sunshine,  matching  light  with  sound,  spontaneous  both, 
and  rivals  for  the  favors  of  the  soft  atmosphere.  Singing 
with  all  its  heart,  outdoing  all  it  knew,  forgetting  imita 
tion  in  wild  improvisation,  watching  her  window  as  it 
danced  upon  the  twigs  and  fluttered  into  the  air,  con 
scious  of  her  listening  as  it  purled  and  warbled  towards 
her,  and  sounded  every  pipe  and  trumpet,  virginal  and 
clarion,  hautboy  and  Castanet,  in  the  orchestra  of  its  rus 
tic  bosom,  the  mocking-bird's  ode  seemed  almost  super 
natural  this  morn  to  Vesta,  and  she  thought  to  herself: 

"  Oh,  what  wedding  music  in  the  cathedral  at  Balti 
more  could  equal  that  ?  and  this  poor  man  receives  it  for 
his  epithalamium,  without  cost,  as  truly  as  if  nature  were 
greeting  my  coming  to  him  in  the  old  poet's  spirit: 

" '  Now  all  is  done  ;  bring  home  the  bride  againe ; 

Bring  home  the  triumph  of  our  victory ; 
Bring  home  with  you  the  glory  of  her  gaine, 

With  joyance  bring  her  and  with  jollity : 
Sing,  ye  sweet  angels,  Alleluia  sing, 
That  all  the  woods  may  answer,  and  your  echo  ring.' " 

Relieved  from  the  agitation  of  the  mocking-bird,  Vesta 
now  gave  her  whole  attention  to  her  husband  ;  and  the 
high  heat  of  his  brain  and  circulation,  and  his  muttering, 
like  delirium,  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  had  an  intense 
attack  of  intermittent  fever.  She  heard  the  words  sev 
eral  times  repeated  by  him  :  "  I  will  come  soon,  darling  !" 
and  the  simplicity  of  his  devotion  to  her,  unloved  as  he 
was,  had  such  flavor  of  pathos  in  it  that  the  tears  started 
to  Vesta's  eyes. 

"Poor  soul !"  she  said,  "it  will  be  long  before  I  can 
love  him.  There,  his  hunger  must  be  enduring.  But  my 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  145 

duty  is  not  the  less  clear  to  stay  by  his  side  and  nurse 
him,  as  his  wife." 

At  this  conclusion  she  looked  Milburn  over  carefully, 
to  see  if  any  wound  or  sign  of  violence,  whether  by  acci 
dent  or  an  enemy,  appeared  upon  him,  and  finding  none, 
and  he  all  the  time  wandering  in  his  sleep,  she  climbed 
the  ladder  and  peeped  into  the  garret,  to  see  if  his  ser 
vant  might  be  there.  Samson's  bed,  as  she  supposed  it 
was,  had  not  been  disturbed,  and  so,  descending,  she 
raised  the  window  over  the  larger  door  she  had  entered 
by,  and  beckoned  Virgie  to  come  up. 

"Take  this  tin  cup,"  she  said  to  the  quadroon,  " and  go 
to  the  spring,  near  here,  and  bring  it  to  me  full  of  water." 

Then,  as  the  girl  tripped  away,  Vesta  found  a  piece  of 
paper,  arid  wrote  her  father  a  note,  telling  him  to  come 
to  her;  and  to  the  girl,  when  she  returned,  her  mistress 
said : 

"  I  want  you  to  get  a  roll  of  new  rag-carpet  at  Teackle 
Hall,  and  have  it  brought  here,  to  spread  upon  this  floor. 
Send  me,  too,  a  pair  of  our  brass  andirons,  and  pack  in 
a  basket  some  glass,  table-ware,  and  linen.  Tell  papa 
to  bring  one  of  his  own  night-shirts,  and  to  take  down  my 
picture  in  the  sewing-room,  and  wrap  it  up,  and  have  it 
sent.  I  must  have  mamma's  medicine-box  and  a  wheel 
barrow  of  ice ;  and  let  Hominy  make  some  strong  tea 
and  hot-water  toast.  Virgie,  do  not  forget  that  this  sick 
gentleman  is  my  husband,  and  a  part  of  our  own  family  !" 

The  girl's  face  preserved  its  respect  with  difficulty  as 
she  heard  the  last  part  of  the  sentence,  but  she  replied  to 
what  she  understood  to  be  a  warning  by  saying : 

"  Miss  Vessy,  I  never  tell  anybody  tales." 

"  No,  dear,  you  do  not.  I  only  feared  you  might  forget 
the  very  different  view  we  must  take  of  Mr.  Milburn  from 
his  former  life  here." 

Being  again  left  alone,  Vesta  took  the  tin  cup  of  spring- 
water,  and,  raising  the  disturbed  man's  head,  she  gave 

10 


146  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

him  a  drink,  and,  as  he  opened  his  eyes  to  see  whom  it 
was,  she  heard  him  say,  with  an  articulate  sigh : 

"  Heaven." 

With  the  remainder  of  the  water  and  her  handkerchief 
she  washed  his  hot  skin  and  kept  it  moist,  and  fitful  mur 
murs,  as  "Darling!"  "Angel!"  "Beautiful  lady!"  came 
from  his  roving  brain  as  perception  and  poison  contended 
for  his  mind.  The  inborn  sense  in  woman  of  happiness 
after  doing  good  offices  and  being  appreciated  was  at 
tended  with  a  certain  intellectual  elation,  and  even  amuse 
ment,  at  having  witnessed  what  was  altogether  new  to  her, 
— the  life  of  the  meaner  class  of  white  people.  She  looked 
at  the  dexterous  silhouette  of  herself,  cut,  probably,  from 
memory,  long  ago,  by  the  man,  no  doubt,  who  never  knew 
her  until  yesterday,  and,  guessing  the  companion  profiles 
to  be  his  mother  and  father,  she  exclaimed,  mentally  : 

"I  cannot  see  anything  insincere  about  this  man's 
statement  to  me.  Here  are  all  the  proofs  of  his  deep 
attachment  to  me  long  before  he  forced  my  name  upon 
papa  with  such  apparent  insolence.  If  papa  could  see 
these  proofs  with  a  woman's  interest,  he  would  have  a 
full  apology  in  them.  Here,  too,  is  the  bird  that  sings 
my  name.  What  strength  of  prepossession  the  master 
must  have  had  to  make  the  feathered  pupil  repeat  the 
sound  of  '  Vesta,'  and  call  me  '  sweet !'  What  resources, 
too,  without  the  use  of  money  or  social  aids  !  He  knows 
the  story  of  our  English  beginning,  while  we  make  it  an 
idle  boast ;  but  to  him  Cromwell  and  Milton,  Raleigh 
and  Vane,  are  men  of  to-day.  Ah !"  Vesta  thought,  "  I 
think  I  see  now  one  of  those  Puritans  in  my  husband,  of 
whom  I  have  heard  as  sprinkled  through  Virginia.  We 
are  the  Cavaliers.  There  is  the  Roundhead,  even  to  the 
King  James  hat." 

As  she  was  led  onward  in  these  probabilities,  Vesta 
took  up  the  demure  old  Hat  and  looked  it  over  without 
any  superstition,  and  reflected : 


MESHACHS    HOME.  147 

"  Do  we  not  exaggerate  trifles  ?  Why  should  this  man 
be  so  derided  because  he  covers  his  head  with  an  old  hat  ? 
Whafof  it?  Suppose  it  shows  some  vanity  or  eccentric 
ity,  why  is  there  more  merit  in  covering  that  up  than  in 
expressing  it  in  the  dress  ?  The  styles  we  wear  to-day 
are  the  derision  even  of  the  current  journals,  and  what 
will  be  thought  of  them  fifty  years  hence,  when  the  fash 
ion  magazines  show  me  as  I  look, — the  envy  of  my  mo 
ment,  the  fright  of  my  grandchildren  ?" 

With  rising  color,  she  put  the  hat  in  the  leather  hat- 
box,  and  shut  it  up. 

Judge  Custis  made  his  way  up  the  dark  stairs  in  a  little 
while,  and,  as  soon  as  he  looked  at  Milburn,  exclaimed, 

"  Curses  come  home  to  roost !  It  was  only  night  be 
fore  last  that  I  said,  in  the  presence  of  Meshach's  negro, 
'  May  the  ague  strike  him  and  the  bilious  sweat  from  Nas- 
sawongo  mill-pond !'  He  slept  by  it  that  night,  while  I 
was  tossing  in  misery.  The  next  night  it  was  his  turn. 
Daughter,  he  has  the  bilious  intermittent  fever,  the  legacy 
of  all  his  fathers.  He  exposed  himself,  I  suppose,  extra 
ordinarily  that  night,  and  I  hear  that  he  burned  the  old 
cabin  in  the  morning.  Now  he  will  burn,  in  memory  of 
it,  for  the  next  ten  weeks ;  for  he  has,  I  suspect,  from  the 
time  of  day  the  burning  and  delirium  came,  what  is  called 
the  double  quotidian  type  of  the  fever,  with  two  attacks 
in  the  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Poor  man  !"  exclaimed  Vesta. 

"  Now  I  can  account  for  his  appearance  at  the  mar 
riage  ceremony  last  night.  The  fever  was  on  him,  but 
he  went  through  it  by  hard  grit,  and,  probably,  returning 
here  to  get  some  relief,  he  just  fell  over  on  that  bed,  and 
his  head  left  him  for  some  hours.  The  paroxysm  goes 
away  during  sleep,  and  returns  in  the  morning ;  so,  be 
fore  he  could  get  abroad  to-day,  even  if  he  could  walk,  to 
report  himself  at  Teackle  Hall,  another  fever  came,  and 
a  furious  one,  too,  and  he  will  have  good  luck  to  survive 


143  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

forty  days  of  fever,  with  probably  eighty  sweats  in  that 
time." 

"He  must  be  doctored  at  once,  papa." 

"  Well,  I  am  good  enough  doctor  for  the  bilious  fever. 
He  wants  plenty  of  cold  lemonade,  cold  sponging,  and 
ice  to  suck  when  the  fever  is  on  him.  When  the  chills 
intervene  he  wants  blanketing,  hot  bottles  at  his  feet, 
and  hot  tea,  or  something  stronger.  In  the  rest  between 
the  attacks  of  fever  and  chill,  he  wants  calomel  and  Peru 
vian  bark,  and  if  these  delirious  spells  go  on,  he  may 
want  both  bleeding  and  opium." 

"  Here  are  some  of  the  things  he  immediately  needs, 
then,"  Vesta  said,  as  a  tall  white  man  she  had  never 
seen  before  came  up  the  stairs  with  Virgie,  bringing  some 
Susquehanna  ice  in  a  blanket,  and  a  roll  of  carpet,  and 
other  articles  she  had  sent  for.  The  man's  face  wore  a 
large  bruise  that  heightened  his  savage  appearance. 

"  Judge,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  "  I'm  doin'  a  little 
work  to  pay  fur  my  board.  Who's  your  whiffler  ?  He'll 
know  me  when  he  sees  me  next  time." 

Following  the  stranger's  eyes,  Vesta  and  her  father 
saw  Meshach  Milburn,  half  raised  up  from  the  low  trun 
dle-bed,  staring  at  Joe  Johnson  as  if  trying  to  get  at  him. 
His  lips  moved,  he  partly  articulated  : 

"  Catch  the — scoundre — him  /" 

"  Joe,"  said  the  Judge,  "  slip  away  !  He  recognizes 
you  as  the  assailant  yesterday.  Don't  hesitate  :  see  how 
he  glares  at  you !" 

"  Oh,  it's  the  billy-noodle  with  the  steeple  nab-cheat, 
him  that  settled  me  with  the  brick,"  said  the  stranger,  in 
a  low  voice.  "  So  I  have  piped  him.  Ah !  that's  plumby." 

As  the  tall  man  started  to  go  Milburn's  countenance 
relaxed,  he  wandered  again  in  his  head,  and  fell  back 
upon  the  bed. 

"  I  told  you  he  was  a  hard  hater,  Mr.  Johnson,"  the 
Judge  remarked. 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  149 

"  Them  shakes  is  the  equivvy  for  the  bruise  he  give 
me, — that  is,  till  we  both  heal  up.  He's  painted  the  en 
signs  of  all  nations  on  my  stummick,  Judge.  But  a  blow 
is  cured  by  a  blow  !" 

With  a  look  of  admiring  computation  upon  the  girl 
Virgie,  Joe  Johnson  drew  his  long  figure  down  the  stairs, 
like  a  pole. 

"  What  a  brutal  giant,"  Vesta  said ;  "  and  how  came  he 
to  be  doing  our  errands  ?" 

"  Why,  Aunt  Hominy  hadn't  nobody  to  bring  the  wheel 
barrow  load,  and  this  man  said  he'd  come,  and  he  would 
come,  Miss  Vesty,  so  I  couldn't  say  anything." 

"  He's  a  man  of  a  good  deal  of  influence,"  said  the 
Judge,  uneasily,  "  in  the  upper  part  of  our  county,  and 
in  Delaware.  Last  night,  after  the  wedding,  he  slapped 
Meshach's  hat,  and  old  Samson  knocked  him  down  for 
it,  and  he  would  have  killed  Samson,  I  hear,  but  for  your 
bridegroom,  who  felled  him  with  a  timely  brick.  It's  a 
hard  team  to  pass  on  a  narrow  road, — Meshach  and  Sam 
son;  hey,  Virgie  ?" 

"  I'm  glad  old  Samson  beat  him,  anyway,"  the  pretty 
quadroon  said,  showing  her  white  teeth. 

"  Oh,  what  troubles  will  not  that  hat  bring  upon  us !" 
Vesta  thought ;  and  then  spoke  :  "  If  Mr.  Milburn  was 
strong,  I  think  he  would  hardly  let  that  man  get  out  of 
the  county  before  night." 

"  Well,  daughter,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  these 
articles  he  has  brought  ?" 

"  They  are  to  make  this  room  comfortable.  See,  he 
has  my  picture  here,  cut  by  his  own  hands :  I  want  to 
put  a  better  one  before  him  :  help  me  hang  it,  papa !" 

In  a  few  minutes  the  bright  oil  portrait,  but  recently 
painted  by  Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale,  was  taking  the  sun 
light  upon  its  warm  brunette  cheeks,  in  full  sight  of  the 
bridegroom,  and  the  thick  rag  carpet  warmed  the  floor, 
and  Virgie  had  made  a  second  errand  to  Teackle  Hall, 


150  THE    ENTAILED    HAT/ 

and  brought  back  the  lady's  rocking-chair  that  Milburn 
so  much  affected,  and  toilet  articles,  and  some  dark  cloth 
to  hide  the  bare  boards  in  places,  and  the  old  loft  soon 
wore  a  reasonable  appearance  of  habitable  life.  Virgie 
made  up  the  fire,  and  the  brass  andirons  took  the  cheer 
ful  flame  upon  them,  while  Vesta  sweetened  the  lemonade 
after  her  father  had  cut  and  squeezed  the  lemons,  and 
added  some  magnesia  to  make  the  drink  foam. 

"  Really,"  said  Judge  Custis,  "  this  miserable  den  takes 
the  rudimentary  form  of  a  home.  I  suppose  there  are 
now  more  comforts  in  his  sight  than  Meshach's  whole 
race  ever  collected.  What  is  your  next  move,  Vesta  ?" 

"  To  stay  right  here,  darling  papa,  till  it  is  safe  and 
convenient  to  carry  Mr.  Milburn  home." 

"  Oh,  folly !  it  will  excite  scandal,  and  be  repulsive  to 
my  feelings.  This  loft  over  a  former  groggery  is  no  place 
for  you  :  the  news  will  spread  from  Chincoteague  to  Ar 
lington.  Every  Custis  that  lives  will  censure  me  and 
outlaw  you." 

"  I  think  you  had  best  see  Mr.  Tilghman  before  the 
service,  papa,  and  have  the  marriage  announced  from  the 
desk  this  morning :  that  will  settle  the  excitement  before 
night.  As  for  staying  here,  my  home,  you  know,  is  where 
he  needs  me.  At  his  will  I  should  have  to  stay  here  al 
together.  But  I  wish  to  do  this,  dear  father.  It  is  of 
the  greatest  necessity  to  my  nature  to  improve  my  inter 
course  with  my  husband  while  he  is  sick,  that  the  hasty 
marriage  we  made  may  still  have  its  period  of  acquaint 
ance  and  good  understanding.  I  want  to  sound  the  pos 
sibilities  of  my  happiness.  He  will  be  less  my  master 
now  than  in  his  strength  and  possession.  Perhaps — " 
Vesta's  voice  fell,  and  she  turned  to  gaze  upon  the  bride 
groom,  whose  fever  still  consumed  his  wits — "perhaps  I 
can  influence  his  dress, — his  appearance." 

"You  mean  the  steeple-top!"  Judge  Custis  exclaimed, 
petulantly. 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  151 

At  the  loud  sound  of  this  familiar  word,  the  feverish 
man's  ears  were  pierced  as  through  some  ever-open  ven 
tricle,  like  an  old  wound. 

"  Steeple-top  !  Who  cried  '  steeple-top '  ? "  he  muttered. 
"  Oh,  can't  you  see  I'm  married.  She  hears  it.  Oh, 
spare  and  pity  her  !" 

He  wandered  into  the  miasmatic  would  again,  leaving 
them  all  touched,  yet  oppressed. 

"  How  the  very  flint-stone  will  wear  away  before  the 
water-drop,"  Judge  Custis  finally  said;  "his  obdurate 
heart  has  been  bruised  by  that  nickname.  In  public  he 
never  appeared  to  flinch  before  it ;  but  you  see  it  in 
flicted  a  never-healing  wound.  Who  has  not  his  vulture  ?" 

"  And  how  unjust  to  pursue  this  man  with  such  frivo 
lous  inhospitality  so  many  years,"  Vesta  exclaimed,  her 
splendid  eyes  flashing.  "  No  account  has  been  made  of 
his  private  reasons,  his  family  piety,  or  his  stern  taste, 
perhaps;  for  he  must  have  a  reason  for  his  wardrobe, 
that  being,  it  would  seem,  the  only  thing  there  can  be  no 
independence  about.  Did  you  hear,  papa,  his  feeling  for 
me  but  this  moment  ?  Strangely  enough,  my  own  mind 
was  thinking  of  that  hat.  It  seems  to  be  bigger  than  the 
very  steeples  of  the  churches :  it  rises  between  the  peo 
ple  and  worship,  yes,  between  us  and  Chanty,  and  Faith, 
— I  had  almost  said  Hope,  too." 

"  The  colored  people  all  say  that  hat  he  has  to  wear, 
because  the  devil  makes  him,"  the  trim,  fawn-footed  Vir- 
gie  said  ;  "  Aunt  Hominy  says  the  Bad  Man  wouldn't  let 
him  make  no  mo'  money  if  he  didn't  go  to  church  in  that 
hat.  Some  of  the  white  people  says  so,  too." 

"  You  don't  believe  such  foolish  tales  as  that,  Virgie  ?" 
Vesta  asked. 

"  'Deed,  I  don't  believe  anything  you  say  is  a  story, 
Miss  Vessy.  Hominy  believes  it.  She's  'most  scared 
out  of  her  life  about  Mr.  Milburn  coming  to  the  house, 
an'  she's  got  all  the  little  ones  a'  most  crazy  with  fear." 


152  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  Poor,  dark,  ignorant  soul !"  Vesta  said ;  "  she  is,  how 
ever,  more  excusable  than  these  grown  men,  whose  preju 
dices  against  an  article  of  dress  are  as  heathen  in  char 
acter  as  her  fetish  superstition." 

"  If  he  is  a  good  man  to  you,  Miss  Vessy,"  the  slave 
girl  said,  "  I'll  think  the  Bad  Man  hasn't  got  anything  to 
do  with  him.  If  he  treats  you  bad,  I'll  think  the  Bad 
Man  has." 

"  Sometimes  I  feel  as  if  men  ought  to  have  been  left 
wild,  like  the  animals,"  the  Judge  said,  rinsing  out  Mil- 
burn's  mouth  with  a  piece  of  ice,  "  for  the  obstacles  to 
liberty  raised  by  fashion  and  civilization  are  Asiatic  in 
their  despotism.  Think  of  the  taxes  we  pay  to  fashion 
when  we  refused  less  to  kings.  Think  of  the  aristocracy 
based  upon  dress,  after  we  have  formally  extirpated  it  by 
statute  !  Think  of  the  influence  the  boot-makers  and 
mantua-makers  of  Europe,  proceeding  from  the  courts  we 
have  renounced,  exert  upon  our  Presidents  and  Sena 
tors,  and,  through  the  women  of  this  country,  upon  all 
the  men  in  the  land  !  A  million  women  who  do  not  know 
that  there  are  two  houses  of  Congress,  know  just  what 
bonnet  the  Duchess  d'Angouleme  is  wearing,  and  how 
Charles  X.  in  Paris  ties  his  cravat.  So  the  devil  always 
gets  a  worm  in  every  apple.  The  French  Revolution 
abolished  feudality,  titles,  great  landed  property,  and  only 
omitted  to  abolish  fashion,  and  that  worm — a  silkworm  it 
is  —  is  devastating  republican  government  everywhere, 
using  the  women  to  infect  us." 

"  Yet,  in  the  nature  of  woman,"  said  Vesta,  "  is  the  love 
of  dress  as  strongly  as  the  love  of  woman  is  in  man. 
Some  righteous  purpose  is  in  it,  papa, — to  ornament  our 
selves  like  the  birds,  and  let  art  be  born." 

"God  knows  his  own  mysteries,"  Judge  Custis  said. 
"  But  Vesta,  go  home  with  me  to  your  own  comfortable 
home,  and  let  Virgie  stay  here  to  keep  watch." 

"  Master,  I'm  afraid  to  stay  here,"  the  girl  exclaimed, 
sidling  towards  her  young  mistress. 


MESHACH'S  HOME.  153 

"  Then  I  will  stay,  and  be  nurse,"  the  Judge  said. 
"  Fear  not !  I  will  give  him  only  wholesome  medicine, 
whatever  poison  he  has  given  me  and  mine.  You  stay 
in  Teackle  Hall,  my  precious  child  !  Indeed,  I  must 
command  it." 

Vesta  smiled  sadly  and  pointed  to  her  husband. 

"He  commands  me  now,  papa.  You  were  too  indul 
gent  a  master,  and  spoiled  me.  No,  Virgie  and  I  will 
both  remain,  and  you  conciliate  mamma.  All  is  going 
well.  Really,  I  am  happy  and  grateful  to  my  Heavenly 
Father  that  he  is  smoothing  the  way  so  gently,  that  I 
thought  would  be  so  hard." 

"  Oh,  the  conditions  of  this  disease  are  repulsive,  my 
child.  You  are  a  lady." 

"No,  I  am  a  woman,"  said  Vesta;  "that  man  and  I 
must  see  one  or  the  other  die.  You  do  not  know  how 
easy  it  is  for  a  woman  to  nurse  a  man.  Though  love 
might  make  the  task  more  grateful,  yet  gratitude  will  do 
much  to  sweeten  it.  He  has  loved  me  and  taken  the 
shadow  from  your  old  age  for  me.  Shall  I  leave  him 
here  to  feel  that  I  despise  him  ?  No." 

She  kissed  her  father,  and  gave  him  his  cane. 

"  Come  back  this  afternoon,  my  love,"  she  said  to 
him. 

"  Nothing  on  earth  is  like  you  !"  exclaimed  the  old 
man.  "  I  fear  you  are  not  mine." 

"  Yes,"  Vesta  said,  "  you  are  full  of  good,  wherever  you 
may  have  strayed." 

As  the  sound  of  his  feet  passed  from  the  doorway  be 
low,  the  sick  man,  with  a  sigh  as  from  burning  fire,  opened 
his  eyes  and  looked  around.  They  fell  upon  her  picture. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  he  murmured  ;  "  I  dreamed  nothing 
like  that,  just  now." 

"  It  is  my  picture.  I  am  here,"  Vesta  said,  bending 
over  him.  "  Don't  you  know  me  ?" 

"  Who  are  you,  dear  lady  ?"  he  breathed,  with  fever- 


154  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

weakened  eye-sockets,  and  mind  struggling  up  to  his 
distended  orbs,  "  do  I  know  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  Vesta — Vesta  Custis,  I  was.  I  am  your 
wife." 

His  eyes  opened  wide,  as  if  hearing  some  wonderful 
news. 

"  Wife  ?  what  is  that  ?     My  wife  ?     No." 

"Yes,  I  am  Vesta  Milburn,  your  wife." 

He  seemed  to  remember,  and,  with  compassion  for 
him,  she  stooped  and  kissed  him. 

"  God  bless  you  !"  he  sighed,  and  passed  away  into 
the  Upas  shades  again. 

At  that  minute  the  mocking-bird  flew  in  the  open  win 
dow  and  fluttered  above  the  lowly  bed,  and  perched 
upon  the  headboard  and  began  to  sing : 

"  'Sband  !  'sband  !  see  !  see  !  Vesty,  sweet !  Vesty, 
sweet !  Ha,  ha  !  hurrah  !" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    KIDNAPPER. 

IT  seemed  to  Judge  Daniel  Custis  as  he  walked  abroad 
into  the  Sunday  sunshine,  that  he  had  never  seen  a  more 
perfect  day.  The  leaves  were  turning  on  the  great  syca 
more-trees,  and  the  maples  along  the  rise  in  the  road  wore 
their  most  delicate  garments  of  nankeen,  while  some 
young  hickories,  loaded  with  nuts,  and  a  high  gum-tree, 
splendid  in  finery,  beckoned  him  out  their  way,  across 
the  Manokin  bridge  to  the  opposite  hill,  where  the  Pres 
byterian  church  overlooked  the  town. 

The  Judge,  whose  eyes  were  filled  with  happy  tears, 
partly  at  the  real  relief  to  his  circumstances  accom 
plished  by  Vesta's  great  sacrifice,  and  partly  by  the 
scene  just  closed,  of  her  natura-1  honor  and  fidelity  to  the 


THE    KIDNAPPER.  1 55 

man  who  had  forced  her  wedding  vows  from  her,  took 
the  northern  course  and  crossed  the  little  bridge,  and  as 
he  went  up  the  hill  the  environs  of  the  town  and  the 
town  itself  spread  out  behind  him  in  the  stillness  of  the 
Sabbath,  and  the  quails  and  fall  birds  piped  and  cackled 
low  in  the  corn  and  the  grain  stubble.  Some  wild-geese 
in  the  south  flew  over  the  low  gray  woods  towards  the 
bay ;  a  pack  of  hounds  somewhere  bayed  like  distant 
music ;  he  heard  the  turkeys  gobble,  at  one  of  the  ad 
jacent  farms  on  the  swells  in  the  marshy  landscape, 
where  abundance,  not  otherwise  denoted,  showed  in  the 
fat  poultry  that  roosted  in  the  trees  like  living  fruit  and 
spoke  apoplectically. 

While  he  drank  in  the  wine  of  autumn  on  the  air,  that 
had  a  bare  taste  of  frost,  like  the  first  acid  in  the  sweet 
cider,  he  saw  a  carriage  or  two  come  over  the  level  roads 
towards  Princess  Anne,  and  the  church-bell  told  their 
errand  as  it  dropped  into  the  serenity  its  fruity  twang,  like 
a  pippin  rolling  from  the  bough.  So  easily,  so  musically, 
so  regularly  it  rang,  like  the  voice  of  something  pure,  that 
was  steady  even  in  its  joys,  that  the  Judge  took  off  his 
broad  white  fur  hat,  as  if  to  a  lady,  and  listened  with 
something  between  courtesy  and  piety. 

As  the  bell  continued  other  carriages  came  towards 
town,  and  some  passed  him,  their  inmates  all  bowing,  and 
often  stealing  a  look  back  to  see  Judge  Custis  again,  the 
first  man  in  the  county. 

They  looked  upon  an  humbled  heart,  a  gladdened  soul, 
which  the  sharp  hand  of  affliction  had  made  to  bleed, 
while  an  unforeseen  Providence  in  his  darling  child  had 
kissed  the  wound  to  sleep  and  sucked  the  poison  from  it. 

Raising  his  brow  towards  the  bright  blue  sky,  as  if  he 
could  not  raise  it  high  enough  to  feel  more  of  that  heav 
enly  rest  encinctured  there,  the  Judge  sighed  forth  a 
happy  wish,  like  the  kiss  of  love  after  a  quarrel,  when 
doubt  is  all  dispelled  or  wrong  forgiven  : 


156  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"O  make  me  as  a  little  child!  Wash  out  my  stains! 
Lead  me  in  the  path  my  child  has  walked,  or  I  shall 
never  see  her  in  the  life  to  come  !" 

His  lips  trembled  and  his  breast  heaved  convulsively. 
In  that  idea  of  being  unfit  to  enter  where  his  child  would 
go,  in  the  more  abundant  life  beyond  the  present,  he  re 
ceived  a  distinct  sermon  from  the  long-empty  pulpit  of 
nature  and  conscience,  and  revelations  from  within  clearer 
than  Holy  Scriptures ;  for  he  felt  the  justice  of  the  final 
separation  of  the  impure  from  the  pure,  and  the  faith  of 
perseverance  in  good  to  draw  onward  towards  holiness 
itself,  and  perseverance  in  sensuality  and  selfishness  to 
detain  the  spirit  in  its  husk  of  swine.  His  agony  in 
creased. 

"  Where  shall  I  drift  if  I  go  on,"  he  said,  "  playing  the 
sleek  magistrate  and  family  head,  and  loving  to  slip  away 
in  the  dark,  like  negroes  hunting  coons  by  night?  What 
is  escaping  discovery  to  the  increasing  degradation  of 
my  own  sanctuary,  my  created  spirit  ?  Can  I  find  the 
way  I  have  wandered  down  and  retrace  my  steps  ?  There 
is  but  little  of  life  left  me  to  do  it  in,  but  by  God's  help 
I  will  try !  Yes,  this  golden  Sabbath  I  will  do  something 
to  begin.  What  shall  it  be  ?" 

He  put  on  his  hat,  and  said  to  himself:  "  I  will  go  to 
the  Methodist  meeting-house  :  they  work  directly  upon 
the  conscience,  deepen  the  sense  of  sin,  and  preach  a 
quick  cleansing  as  by  light  shining  in.  There  I  may 
grovel  in  the  sight  of  men  and  women  and  arise  redeemed. 
But,  no.  It  is  the  Sabbath  my  daughter's  marriage  is  to 
be  announced  in  our  own  church,  and  it  would  be  coward 
ly,  not  to  say  unseemly,  to  fly  from  one  worship  to  an 
other  now.  If  I  go  to  church  this  morning  it  must  be 
to  our  own.  Is  there  any  excuse  but  cowardice  for  not 
going  ?" 

He  looked  into  his  debtor  nature,  to  see  what  he  owed 
to  anybody,  that  might  be  owned  and  settled  this  clay. 


THE    KIDNAPPER.  157 

Slowly  and  almost  to  his  dislike  there  arose  an  obliga 
tion  to  his  wife — the  obligation  of  love  he  was  defraud 
ing  her  of,  if,  indeed,  he  loved  her  at  all  with  the  ardor 
of  old  times. 

She  had  fretted  his  passion  away  in  little  sticklings  for 
little  proprieties,  and  narrowing  understanding,  and  sub 
servience  to  effeminate  social  traditions.  She  jarred  upon 
the  health  of  his  intellect  with  her  unsympathetic  refine 
ments  and  pitiful  uncharities,  and  fear  of  all  catholicity. 
She  was  gentility  itself,  without  the  spark  of  nature,  and 
believing  that  she  inhabited  the  castle  towers  of  exclu- 
siveness  and  social  righteousness,  she  had  made  his  home 
the  donjon-keep  of  his  knighthood,  at  once  the  loftiest 
domestic  apartment  and  the  prison. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  his  wife,  and  something  of  her 
nature  must  be  in  Vesta,  though  the  Judge  had  not  found 
it.  He  reflected  that  his  waywardness  might  have  sharp 
ened  her  peculiarities  and  spread  the  distance  between 
their  minds,  till,  deprived  of  a  husband's  guidance,  her 
fluttered  woman's  nature  had  quit  the  pasturage  of  the 
fields  and  air,  and  perched  upon  her  nest  and  vegetated 
there. 

"  I  have  gone  away  from  her,"  he  said,  "  and  complain 
that  she  has  not  grown.  I  have  myself  abounded  in  vil 
lage  dignity  and  pretension,  and  set  her  the  example  of 
respecting  nothing  else.  I  have  been  a  fraud,  and  won 
der  that  she  is  not  wordly-wise." 

He  found  his  infirm  will  very  obdurate  against  mak 
ing  love  to  his  wife  again,  but  the  request  he  had  just 
made  of  Heaven,  to  lead  him  into  the  right  steps,  pre 
vailed  upon  him  to  make  his  worship  at  home  this  morn 
ing. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  will  start  right.  She  is  sick  and 
alone,  and  Vesta  taken  from  her.  I  will  send  a  note  to 
the  rector  to  announce  the  marriage,  as  Vesta  requested, 
and  do  my  worship  at  T cackle  Hall  this  day." 


158  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

The  iManokin,  spreading  wider  as  it  flowed  farther  from 
the  town,  and  widening  from  a  brook  to  a  creek,  till  it 
moistened  fringes  of  marsh  and  cut  low  bluffs  into  the 
fields,  never  seemed  to  invite  him  so  much  to  wander 
along  its  sluices  as  this  morn. 

"  If  my  wife  would  only  walk  with  me  into  the  coun 
try,"  he  said,  restlessly,  "  how  more  companionable  we 
would  have  been  to  each  other  !  But  she  cannot  walk 
at  all ;  all  masculine  intercourse  ceased  between  us  years 
ago,  and  the  dull,  small  range  of  household  talk,  and  the 
dynastic  gossip  of  the  good  families,  wear  down  my  spirits. 
But  I  have  been  a  truant  husband,  and  my  tongue  is 
parched  by  dusty  rovings  in  prodigal  ways.  Let  me  woo 
her  again  with  all  my  might !" 

He  walked  through  Princess  Anne,  worship  now  having 
commenced  in  all  the  churches,  and  saw  nobody  upon 
the  street  except  a  divided  group  before  the  tavern. 
There  he  heard  Jimmy  Phcebus  speak  to  Levin  Dennis 
sharply : 

"Levin,  what  you  doin'  with  that  nigger  buyer?  Ain't 
you  got  no  Dennis  pride  left  in  you  ?" 

The  Judge  saw  that  Joe  Johnson,  safe  from  civil  process 
on  Sunday,  even  if  his  enemy  had  not  been  helpless  in 
bed,  was  washing  Levin  Dennis's  brandy-sickened  head 
under  the  street  pump,  plying  the  pump-handle  and 
shampooing  him  with  alternate  hands. 

"Jimmy,"  answered  Levin,  when  he  was  free  from  the 
spout,  "  this  gentleman's  give  me  a  job.  I'm  goin'  to 
take  him  out  for  tarrapin  on  the  Sound.  He's  goin'  to 
pay  me  for  it." 

"  Tarrapin-catchin'  on  a  Sunday  ain't  no  respectable 
job  for  a  Dennis,  nohow,"  cried  Jimmy  Phcebus,  bluntly  ; 
"  an'  doin'  it  with  a  nigger  buyer  is  a  fine  splurge  fur  you, 
by  smoke  !  I  can't  see  where  your  pride  is,  Levin,  to 
save  my  life." 

Jack  Wonnell,  wearing  a  bell -crown,  looked  on  with 


THE    KIDNAPPER.  159 

timid  enjoyment  of  this  plain  talk,  opening  his  mouth  to 
grin,  shutting  it  to  shudder. 

The  big  stranger,  dropping  Levin  Dennis,  strode  in  his 
long  jack-boots,  in  which  his  coarse  trousers  were  stuffed, 
right  to  the  front  of  Jimmy  Phoebus,  and  glared  at  him 
through  his  inflamed  and  unsightly  eye.  Jimmy  met  his 
scowl  with  a  mildness  almost  amounting  to  contempt. 

"  Hark  ye !"  spoke  the  stranger,  "  you  have  been  a 
picking  a  quarrel  with  me  all  yisterday,  an'  to-day  air  a 
beginnin'  of  it  agin.  Do  you  want  to  fight  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Jimmy,  whittling  a  stick  ;  "  I  ain't  fond  of 
fighting,  and  I  never  do  it  of  a  Sunday.  I  wouldn't  be 
guilty  of  fightin'  you,  by  smoke  !" 

"  I  have  tuk  a  bigger  nug  than  you  and  nicked  his 
kicks  into  the  bottom  of  his  gizzard  till  his  liver-lights 
fell  into  my  mauleys.  So  it's  nish  or  knife  betwixt  us, 
my  bene  cove !" 

He  put  his  hand  upon  his  hip,  where  he  carried  a 
sheath-knife. 

"  Raise  that  hand,"  said  Jimmy  Phoebus,  with  a  quick 
pass  of  his  whittling  knife  to  the  giant's  throat.  "  Raise 
it  or,  by  smoke  !  yer  goes  yer  jugler." 

As  Phoebus  spoke  he  lifted  one  foot,  of  a  prodigious 
size,  as  deftly  as  an  elephant  hoisting  his  trunk,  and 
kicked  the  man's  hand  from  the  hip  pocket  without 
moving  either  his  own  body  or  countenance.  It  was 
done  so  automatically  that  the  other  turned  fiercely  to 
see  who  kicked  him,  and  his  sheath-knife,  partly  raised, 
was  flung  by  the  force  of  the  kick  several  yards  away. 

"  Pick  up  his  knife,  Levin,"  Jimmy  said,  "  or  he'll  hurt 
hisself  with  it." 

At  this  moment  Judge  Custis  came  up  and  pushed  the 
two  powerful  men  apart. 

"  Fighting  on  Sunday  in  our  public  street,"  he  ex 
claimed  j  "Phoebus,  I  wouldn't  have  thought  it  of 
you !" 


l6o  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  This  yer  bully,  Judge,"  Jimmy  said  coolly,  "  started 
to  take  Prencess  Anne  the  fust  day,  an'  ole  Meshach's 
Samson  knocked  him  a  sprawlin',  an'  Meshach  hisself 
finished  him.  To-day  he  starts  in  to  lead  off  yon  poor 
imbecile,  Levin  Dennis,  and,  as  I  expresses  my  opinion 
of  it,  he  draws  his  knife  on  me  ;  so  I  takes  my  foot,  Judge, 
that  you  have  seen  me  untie  a  knot  with,  and  I  spiles  his 
wrist  with  it.  Take  care  of  his  knife,  Levin, — he's  a  pore 
creetur  without  it." 

"  We'll  have  this  out,  nope  for  nope,  or  may  I  take  the 
morning-drop  !"  growled  the  strange  man. 

"  That  kind  of  language  ain't  understood  in  honest 
company,"  Jimmy  Phoebus  said ;  "  I  s'pose  it's  thieves' 
lingo,  used  among  your  friends,  or,  maybe,  big  words 
you  bully  strangers  with,  when  you  want  to  cut  a  splurge. 
Now,  as  you've  been  licked  by  a  nigger  and  kicked  by  a 
white  man,  maybe  you  can  understand  my  language  ! 
Hark  you,  too,  nigger  buyer !  Do  you  know  where  I  saw 
you  first  ?" 

For  the  first  time  a  flash  of  fire  came  from  the  pungy 
captain's  black  cherries  of  eyes,  and  his  huge  broad  face 
of  swarthy  color  expressed  its  full  Oriental  character : 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  you,  Joe  Johnson,  was  not  a-lurk- 
ing  in  Judge  Custis's  kitchen  fur  no  good,  nor  a~insultin' 
of  the  Judge's  t'other  visitor,  Milburn  of  the  steeple-top  : 
it  was  a-huggin'  the  whippin'-post  on  the  public  green  of 
Georgetown,  State  of  Delaware,  an'  the  sheriff  a-layin'  of 
it  over  your  back ;  an'  after  he  sot  you  up  in  the  pillory 
I  took  the  rottenest  egg  I  could  git,  an'  I  bust  it  right  on 
the  eye  where  that  nigger  bruised  you  yisterday !" 

The  oppressive  silence,  as  Joe  Johnson  slunk  back, 
desperate  with  rage,  yet  unable  to  deny,  was  broken  by 
Jack  Wonnell's  unthinking  interjection  : 

"  Whoop,  Jimmy  !     Hooraw  for  Prencess  Anne  !" 

"An'  why  did  I  git  that  egg  an'  make  you  smell  it, 
Joe  Johnson  ?  Because,  by  smoke  !  you  was  a  stinkiir 


THE    KIDNAPPER.  l6l 

kidnapper,  robbing  of  the  pore  free  niggers  of  their  lib 
erty,  knowin'  that  they  didn't  carry  no  arms  and  couldn't 
make  no  good  defense  !  That's  your  trade,  an'  it's  the 
meanest  an'  most  cowardly  in  the  world.  It's  doin'  what 
the  Algerynes  does  in  fair  fighting.  You're  a  fine  Ameri 
can  citizen,  ain't  you  ?  I  know  your  gang,  and  a  bloody 
one  it  is,  but  you  can't  look  a  white  man  in  the  eye,  be 
cause  you're  a  thief  and  a  coward  !" 

The  Hellenic  nature  of  the  bay  captain  had  never  dis 
played  itself  to  the  Judge  with  this  fulness,  and  he  felt 
some  natural  admiration  as  he  took  Phoebus  by  the  arm. 

"  Well,  well !"  said  the  Judge,  "  let  him  go  now,  Phce- 
bus  !  Mr.  Johnson,  clon't  let  me  see  you  in  Princess 
Anne  again  to-day.  Continue  your  journey  and  disturb 
us  no  more,  or  I  shall  put  criminal  process  upon  you, 
and  you  see  we  have  stout  constables  in  Somerset." 

As  he  led  Phoebus  around  the  corner  of  the  bank,  the 
Judge  said : 

"  James,  my  wife  is  so  sick  that  I  must  keep  house 
with  her  this  morning,  and  I  want  a  little  note  left  at  the 
church  for  Mr.  Tilghman.  Will  you  take  it  ?" 

"  Why,  with  pleasure,  Judge,"  the  nonchalant  villager 
replied.  "  I  don't  look  very  handsome  in  the  'piscopal 
church,  but  I'll  do  a'  arrand." 

As  the  Judge  wrote  the  note  with  his  gold  pencil  on  a 
leaf  of  his  memorandum  book,  he  said  : 

"James,  did  you  identify  that  man  yesterday?" 

"Yes,  I  knowed  him  as  soon  as  he  come  to  the  tavern. 
This  mornin',  seem'  of  him  around  town,  I  was  afear'd 
Samson  Hat  would  stumble  on  him,  and  the  nigger  buyer 
would  kill  him  for  yisterday's  blow.  Thinks  I :  '  Samson 
is  too  white  a  nigger  to  be  killed  that  way,  by  smoke  !' 
but  the  prejudice  agin  a  nigger  hittin'  a  white  man  is  sich 
in  this  state  that  Joe  Johnson,  bloody  as  he  is,  would 
never  have  stretched  hemp  for  Samson  Hat;  so  I  picked 
a  quarrel  with  the  nigger  buyer  to  take  the  fight  out  of 

ii 


1 62  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

him  before  Samson  should  come.  He  won't  fight  no 
body  now  in  this  town.  His  hokey-pokey  is  done  _>'<?/•." 

"  You  took  a  great  risk,  Phoebus.  He  is  such  an  evil 
fellow  in  his  resentments,  that  I  let  him  hide  and  eat  in 
my  quarters  for  fear  of  some  ill  requital  if  I  refused. 
That  gang  of  Patty  Cannon's  is  the  curse  of  the  Eastern 
Shore." 

"  And  if  you'll  pardon  a  younger  and  a  porer  man, 
Judge,  it's  jest  sich  gentlemen  as  you  that  lets  it  go  on. 
You  politicians  give  them  people  'munity,  an'  let  'em 
alone  because  they  fight  fur  you  in  'lection  times  an'  air 
popular  with  foresters  an'  pore  trash,  because  they  per 
secutes  niggers  an'  treats  to  liquor.  You  know  the  laws 
is  agin  their  actions  on  both  sides  of  the  Delaware  line, 
but  in  Maryland  they're  a  dead  letter." 

"  You  speak  plain  truth,  James  Phoebus,  brave  as  your 
conduct.  But  the  poor  men  must  make  a  sentiment 
against  these  kidnappers,  because  among  the  ignorant 
poor  they  find  their  defenders  and  equals." 

"Judge,"  the  pungy  captain  said,  "  they'se  a-makin'  a 
pangymonum  of  all  the  destreak  about  Patty  Cannon's. 
By  smoke!  it's  a  shame  to  liberty.  In  open  day  they 
lead  free  niggers,  men,  wimmin,  an'  little  children,  too, 
to  be  sold,  who's  free  as  my  mommy  and  your  daughter." 

Judge  Custis  thought  painfully  of  the  scant  freedom 
his  daughter  now  enjoyed.  Jimmy  Phoebus  continued  : 

"Now  yer.  we're  raising  hokey-pokey  about  the  Al- 
gerynes  and  the  Trypollytins  capturin'  of  a  few  Christian 
people  an'  sellin'  of  'em  to  Turkey,  an'  about  the  Turkey 
people  makin'  slaves  of  the  Christian  Greek  folks.  Henry 
Clay  is  cuttin'  a  big  splurge  about  it.  Money  is  bein' 
raised  all  over  the  country  to  send  it  to  'em.  Commodo' 
Decatur  was  a  big  man  for  a-breakin'  of  it  up.  By  smoke  ! 
they're  sellin'  more  free  people  to  death  and  hell  along 
Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  than  up  the  whole  buzztim  of 
the  Mediterranean  Sea." 


THE    KIDNAPPER.  163 

The  brown -skinned  speaker  was  more  excited  now 
than  he  had  been  during  all  the  collision  with  Joe  John 
son. 

"  Indeed,  Phoebus,  they  have  kidnapped  several  thou 
sand  people,  the  Philadelphia  abolitionists  say,  but  the 
reports  must  be  exaggerated.  The  demand  for  negroes 
is  so  great,  since  ihe  cotton-gin  and  the  foreign  markets 
have  made  cotton  a  great  staple,  and  the  direct  importa 
tion  of  slaves  from  Africa  has  been  stopped,  that  there 
is  a  great  run  for  border-state  negroes,  and  free  colored 
people  seldom  are  righted  when  they  have  been  pulled 
across  the  line." 

"  They  never  are  righted,  Judge  Custis  !  I'm  ashamed 
of  my  native  state.  Only  a  few  years  ago,  when  I  was  a 
boy,  people  around  yer  was  a-freein'  of  their  niggers,  and 
it  was  understood  that  slavery  would  a-die  out,  an'  every 
body  said, '  Let  the  evil  thing  go.'  But  niggers  began  to 
go  up  high ;  they  got  to  be  wuth  eight  hunderd  dollars 
whair  they  wasn't  wuth  two  hunderd  ;  and  all  the  politi 
cians  begun  to  say  :  '  Niggers  is  not  fit  to  be  free.  Nig 
gers  is  the  bulrush,  or  the  bulwork,  or  bull -something 
of  our  nation.'  And  then  kidnapping  of  free  niggers 
started,  and  the  next  thing  they'll  kidnap  free  American 
citizens !" 

"  Tut !  tut !  James  !  it  will  never  go  that  far." 

"  Won't  it  ?  What  did  Joe  Johnson  say  to  me  last 
night  before  the  Washington  Tavern  ?  He  said  :  '  I've 
sold  whiter  niggers  than  you,  myself.  I  kin  run  you  to 
market  an'  git  my  price  for  you  !'  " 

The  bay  sailor  took  off  his  hat. 

"  Look  at  me  !"  he  continued  ;  "  by  smoke  !  look  on  my 
brown  skin  and  black  eyes  an'  coal  black  hair.  Whair 
did  they  come  from  ?  They  come  from  Greece,  whair 
Leonidas  an'  Marky  Bozarris  and  all  them  fellers  came 
from  :  that's  what  my  daddy  said.  He  know'd  better 
than  me.  I'm  nothin'  but  a  pore  Eastern  Shore  man 


164  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

sailing  my  little  vessel,  but  I'm  a  free-born  man,  and  I 
tell  you,  Judge,  it's  a  dangerous  time  when  nothing  but 
his  shade  of  color  protects  a  free  man." 

"  James  Phoebus,"  the  Judge  said,  gravely,  "  I  hope 
you  believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  think  all  these  things 
outrages,  and  they  grow  out  of  the  greater  outrage  of 
slavery  itself.  We  are  being  governed  by  new  states, 
hatched  in  the  Southwest  from  the  alligator  eggs  of  old 
slavery,  that  had  grown  into  political  and  moral  disre 
pute  with  us  in  Maryland  and  Virginia." 

"  There's  no  nigger  in  me,"  Phoebus  said,  putting  on 
his  hat,  "  but  I  have  taken  these  hints  about  my  looking 
like  a  nigger  to  heart,  and  I'll  take  a  nigger's  part  when 
he  is  imposed  on,  as  if  he  was  some  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  my  Lord  Jesus.  Now  you  hear  it !" 

"  And  brave  enough  you  are  to  mean  it,  my  honest  fel 
low.  So  do  my  errand,  and  good-morning,  James." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

BELL-CROWN    MAN. 

As  the  Judge  and  Phcebus  had  turned  the  corner  of 
the  bank  Samson  Hat  appeared,  driving  clown  Princess 
Anne's  broad  main  street  a  young  white  girl. 

"There's  the  nigger  that  set  my  peep  in  limbo,"  mut 
tered  the  negro  dealer, "  but  even  he  shall  go  past  to-day. 
This  accursed  town  is  packed  agin  me." 

He  took  a  long  look  at  Samson,  however,  who  mildly 
returned  it  in  the  most  respectful  manner,  as  if  he  had 
never  seen  the  strange  gentleman  before. 

"  And  now,  my  pals,"  Joe  Johnson  said,  turning  to  Levin 
Dennis  and  Jack  Wonnell,  "  we  will  all  three  go  down  to 
the  bay  and  I'll  pervide  the  lush,  and  pay  the  soap  while 
you  ketch  the  tarrapin,  an'  let  me  sleep  my  nazy  off." 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  165 

"  I'll  go  an'  no  mistake  !"  cried  Jack  Wonnell,  who  had 
been  taking  a  drink  of  pump-water  out  of  his  bell-crown. 
"  So  will  you,  Levin." 

Levin  Dennis  hesitated  ;  "  I  want  to  tell  my  mother 
first,"  he  said,  "maybe  she  won't  like  me  fur  to  go  of  a 
Sunday.  She'll  send  Jimmy  Phoebus  after  me." 

Joe  Johnson  took  a  bag  of  gold  from  inside  his  waist 
band,  hanging  by  a  loop  there,  and  held  up  a  piece  of  five 
before  the  boy's  bright  eyes : 

"  Yer,  kid  !  That's  yourn  if  you  don't  have  no  mother 
about  it.  Pike  away  with  me.  pig  widgeon,  an'  find  your 
boat,  and  I  pay  you  this  pash  at  sundown." 

Levin's  credulous  eyes  shone,  and  with  one  reluctant 
look  towards  his  mother's  cottage  he  led  the  way  into 
the  country. 

Little  was  said  as  they  walked  an  hour  or  more  tow 
ards  the  west,  the  stranger  apparently  brooding  upon 
his  indignities,  and  twice  passing  around  the  jug  of 
brandy  which  Jack  Wonnell  was  made  to  carry,  and 
before  noon  they  came  to  a  considerable  creek,  out  in 
which  was  anchored  a  small  vessel  bearing  on  her  stern 
in  illiterate,  often  inverted,  letters  the  name  :  Ellenora 
Dennis. 

"What's  that  glibe  on  yonder?"  asked  Johnson,  point 
ing  to  the  letters. 

"That's  his  mother's  name,  boss,"  Jack  Wonnell  said, 
hitching  at  the  stranger's  breeches,  "  she's  a  widcler,  an' 
purty  as  a  peach." 

"Ain't  you  got  no  daddy,  pore  pap -lap?"  Johnson 
asked  coarsely." 

"  He's  gone  sence  I  was  a  baby,"  Levin  answered  ;  "  he 
went  on  Judge  Custis's  uncle's  privateer  that  never  was 
heard  of  no  mo'.  We  don't  know  if  the  British  tuk  him 
an'  hanged  him,  or  if  the  Idy  sunk  somewhair  an'  drowned 
him,  or  if  she's  a-sailin'  away  off.  I  has  to  take  care  of 
mother." 


1 66  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

'•  Humph  !"  growled  Joe  Johnson ;  "  son  of  a  gander 
and  a  gilflirt :  purty  kid,  too — got  the  ole  families  into 
him.  No  better  loll  for  me  !" 

Drawing  a  punt  concealed  under  some  marsh  brush, 
young  Levin  pushed  off  to  his  vessel,  made  her  tidy  by  a 
few  changes,  pulled  up  the  jib,  and  brought  her  in  to  the 
bank. 

"  Mr.  Johnson,  I  never  ketched  tarrapin  of  a  Sunday 
befo',  but  I  reckon  tain't  no  harm." 

"  Harm  ?  what's  that  ?"  Joe  Johnson  sneered.  "  Hark 
ye,  boy,  no  funking  with  me  now  !  When  I  begin  with  a 
kinchin  cove  I  starts  squar.  If  ye  think  it's  wicked  to 
ketch  tarrapin,  why,  I  want  'em  caught.  If  you  don't  keer, 
you  kin  jest  stick  up  yer  sail  an'  pint  for  Deil's  Island, 
an'  we'll  make  it  a  woyige  !" 

Not  quite  clear  as  to  his  instructions,  Levin  took  the 
tiller,  and  Jack  Wonnell  superserviceably  got  the  terra 
pin  tongs,  and  stood  in  the  bow  while  the  cat -boat 
skimmed  down  Monie  Creek  before  a  good  breeze  and  a 
lee  tide.  The  chain  dredge  for  terrapin  was  thrown  over 
the  side,  but  the  boat  made  too  much  sail  for  Wonnell  to 
take  more  than  one  or  two  tardy  animals  with  his  tongs, 
as  they  hovered  around  the  transparent  bottoms  making 
ready  for  their  winter  descent  into  the  mud. 

"  Take  up  your  dredge,"  Johnson  commanded  in  a  few 
minutes.  "  It  makes  us  go  slow." 

Jack  Wonnell  obediently  made  a  few  turns  on  the 
windlass,  and  as  the  bag  came  up,  two  terrapin  of  the 
then  common  diamond-back  variety  rolled  on  the  deck, 
and  a  skilpot. 

"  That's  enough  tarrapins,"  Johnson  said, "  unless  you're 
afraid  it's  doin'  wrong,  Levin.  Say,  spooney  !  is  it  wicked 
now  ?"' 

The  boy  laughed,  a  little  pale  of  face,  and  Johnson 
closed  his  remark  with  : 

"  Nawthin'  ain't  wicked  !     Sunday  is  dustman's  day  to 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  167 

be  broke  by  heroes.  D'ye  s'pose  yer  daddy  on  the  pri 
vateer  wouldn't  lick  the  British  of  a  Sunday  ?  The  way 
to  git  rich,  sonny,  is  to  break  all  the  commandments  at 
the  post,  an'  pick  'em  up  agin  at  the  score !" 

"  That's  the  way,  sho'  as  you're  born.  Whoop  !  John 
son,  you  got  it  right !"  chuckled  Jack  Wonnell,  not  clear 
as  to  what  was  said. 

Levin  Dennis  felt  a  little  shudder  pass  through  him, 
but  he  gave  the  stranger  the  helm,  and  by  Wonnell's  aid 
raised  the  main-sheet,  and  the  light  boat  went  winging 
across  Monie  Bay,  starting  the  water -fowl  as  it  tacked 
through  them. 

"  Here's  another  swig  all  round,"  Joe  Johnson  ex 
claimed,  "  and  then  I'll  go  below  to  lollop  an  hour,  for 
I'm  bloody  lush." 

Levin  drank  again,  and  it  took  the  shuddering  instinct 
out  of  him,  and  Joe  Johnson  cried,  as  he  disappeared  into 
the  little  cabin  : 

"  Ree-collect !  You  pint  her  for  Deri's  Island  thorough 
fare,  and  wake  me,  pals,  at  the  old  camp-ground,  fur  to 
dine." 

The  two  Princess  Anne  neighbors  felt  relieved  of  the 
long  man's  company,  and  Jack  Wonnell  lay  on  his  back 
astern  and  grinned  at  Levin  as  if  there  was  a  great  un 
known  joke  or  coincidence  between  them,  finally  whis 
pering: 

"  Where  does  he  git  all  his  gold  ?" 

Levin  shook  his  head  : 

"  Can't  tell,  Jack,  to  save  my  life.  Nigger  tradin',  I 
reckon.  It  must  be  payin'  business,  Jack." 

"  Best  business  in  the  world.  Wish  I  had  a  little  of 
his  money,  Levin.  Hu-ue-oo  !"  giving  a  low  shout,  "  then 
wouldn't  I  git  my  gal  !" 

"Who's  yo'  gal,  Jack,  for  this  winter?" 

"You  won't  tell  nobody,  Levin?" 

"No,  hope  I  may  die  !" 


1 68  THE    ENTAILED    HAT, 

Jack  put  his  bell-crown  up  to  the  side  of  his  mouth, 
executed  another  grin,  winked  one  eye  knowingly,  and 
whispered  : 

"Purty  yaller  Roxy,  Jedge  Custis's  gal." 

"  She  won't  have  nothin'  to  do  with  you,  Jack ;  she's 
too  well  raised." 

"  She  ain't  had  yit,  Levin,  but  I'm  follerin'  of  her 
aroun'.  There  ain't  no  white  gal  in  Princess  Anne 
purty  as  them  two  house  gals  of  Jedge  Custis's." 

"Well,  what  kin  you  do  with  a  nigger,  Jack  ?  You 
never  kin  marry  her." 

"  Maybe  I  kin  buy  her,  Levin." 

"  She  ain't  fur  sale,  Jack.  Jedge  Custis  never  sells  no 
niggers.  You  can't  buy  a  nigger  to  save  your  life.  When 
some  of  Jedge  Custis's  niggers  in  Accomac  run  away  he 
wouldn't  let  people  hunt  for  'em." 

Jack  Wonnell  put  his  bell -crown  to  the  side  of  his 
mouth  again,  grinned  hideously,  and  whispered : 

"  Kin  you  keep  a  secret  ?" 

Levin  nodded,  yes. 

"  Hope  a  may  die  ?" 

"  Hope  I  may  die,  Jack." 

"Jedge  Custis  is  gwyn  to  be  sold  out  by  Meshach  Mil- 
burn." 

"  What  a  lie,  Jack  !" 

Levin  let  the  tiller  half  go,  and  the  Ellcnora  Dennis 
swung  round  and  flapped  her  sails  as  if  such  news  had 
driven  all  the  wind  out  of  them. 

"Jack,"  Levin  exclaimed,  "Jimmy  Phcebus  says  you've 
turned  out  a  reg'lar  liar.  Now  I  believe  it,  too." 

"  Hope  I  may  die  !"  Jack  Wonnell  protested,  "  I  never 
does  lie  :  it's  too  hard  to  find  lies  for  things  when  people 
comes  an'  tells  you,  or  you  kin  see  fur  yourseff.  Jimmy 
called  me  a  liar  fur  sayin'  Meshach  Milburn  was  gone 
into  the  Jedge's  front  do',  but  we  saw  him  come  out  of  it, 
didn't  we?" 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  169 

"Yes,  that  was  so ;  but  this  yer  one  is  an  awful  lie." 

"  Well,  Levin,  purty  yaller  Roxy,  she  told  me,  an'  she's 
too  purty  to  tell  lies.  I  loves  that  gal  like  peach-an'- 
honey,  Levin,  an'  I  don't  keer  whether  she's  white  or  no. 
She's  mas'  as  white  as  me,  an'  a  good  deal  better." 

"  So  you  do  talk  to  Roxy  some  ?" 

"  Levin,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  an'  you  won't  tell  no 
body.  Well,  I  picks  magnoleys  an'  wild  roses  an'  sich 
purty  things  fur  Roxy  to  give  her  missis,  an'  Roxy  gives 
me  cake,  an'  chicken,  an'  coffee  at  the  back  door,  knowin' 
I  ain't  got  much  to  buy  'em  with.  Lord  bless  her !  she 
don't  half  know  I  don't  think  as  much  of  them  cakes  an' 
snacks  an'  warm  rich  coffee,  as  I  do  of  her  purty  eyes. 
She's  a  white  angel  with  a  little  coffee  in  her  blood,  but 
it's  ole  Goverment  Javey  an'  more  than  half  cream  !" 

Here  Levin  laughed  loudly,  and  said  that  Jack  must 
have  learned  that  out  of  a  book. 

"Oh,"  said  Jack,  shutting  one  eye  hard  and  joining  in 
ihe  grin,"  sence  I  ben  in  love  I  kin  say  lots  o'  smart 
things  like  that.  I  have  seen  purty  little  Roxy  grow  up 
from  a  chile,  an'  as  she  begin  to  round  up  and  git  tall, 
says  I :  '  Nigger  or  no  nigger,  she's  angel  !'  The  white 
gals  they  all  throwed  off  on  me,  caze  I  wasn't  earnin' 
nothin',  an'  I  sot  my  eyes  on  Roxy  Custis  an'  I  says  : 
'  What  kin  I  do  fur  to  make  her  shine  to  me  ?'  So  I 
kept  a-follerin'  of  her  everywhere,  an'  I  see  her  one  day 
comin'  along  the  road  a-pickin'  of  the  wild  blossoms  an' 
with  her  han'  full  of  'em,  an'  I  says  :  '  Roxy,  what  you 
doin'  of  with  them  flowers?'  'They're  fur  my  missis, 
Miss  Vesty,'  says  she;  'she  lives  on  wild  flowers,  an' 
they're  all  I  has  to  give  her,  an'  I  want  her  to  love  me 
as  much  as  Virgie.'  You  see  Levin,  the  t'other  gal,  Vir- 
gie,  waits  on  Miss  Custis,  an'  Roxy  she  was  a  little  jeal 
ous.  Then  I  says  :  '  Roxy,  I  kin  git  you  flowers  for  your 
missis.  I  know  whair  the  magnoleys  is  bloomin'  the 
whitest  an'  a-scentin'  the  whole  day  long.'  '  Do  you  ?' 


170  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

says  she,  '  Oh,  Mr.  Wonnell,  I  would  like  to  have  a  bunch 
of  magnoleys  to  put  on  Miss  Vesty's  toilet  every  day.' 
'  I'll  git  'em  fur  you,  Roxy,'  says  I, '  becaze  I  allus  thought 
you  was  a  little  beauty.'  Says  she  :  *  I'd  give  most  any 
thing  to  surprise  Miss  Vesty  with  flowers  every  day, — rale 
wild  ones  !'  *  Then,'  says  I, '  Roxy,  I'll  git  'em  fur  you 
for  a  kiss !'  An'  she  most  a-blushed  blood-red  an'  ran 
away." 

"That's  what  I  told  you,  Jack,  she's  raised  too  well  to 
be  talkin'  to  white  fellers." 

"Nobody's  raised  too  well,"  rejoined  Jack  Wonnell, 
"to  be  deef  to  love  and  kindness.  Says  I  to  myself: 
'  Jack,  you  skeert  that  gal.  Now  say  nothin'  mo'  about 
the  kiss,  an'  go  git  her  the  flowers  every  day,  an'  she'll 
think  mo'  of  you !'  So  away  I  went  to  King's  Creek  an' 
pulled  the  magnoleys,  an'  I  come  to  the  do'  an'  asked 
ole  Hominy  to  bring  down  Roxy  for  a  minute.  Roxy 
she  come,  an'  was  gvvyn  to  run  away  till  she  saw  my 
flowers,  an'  she  stopped  a  minute  an'  says  I :  '  I  jest  got 
'em  for  you,  Roxy,  becaze  I  see  you  when  you  was  a  lit' 
tie  chile.'  She  tuk  'em  an'  says  :  '  It  was  very  kind  of 
you,  sir,'  an'  kercheyed  an'  melted  away.  Next  day  I 
was  thar  agin,  Levin,  an'  I  says,  to  make  it  seem  like  a 
trade  :  '  Roxy,  kin  ye  give  me  a  cup  of  coffee  ?'  '  Law, 
yes  !'  she  says,  forgittin'  her  blushin'  right  away.  So  I 
-  kept  shady  on  love  an'  put  it  on  the  groun's  of  coffee, 
an',  Levin,  I  everlastin'ly  fetched  the  wild  flowers  till  that 
gal  got  to  be  a-lookin'  fur  me  at  the  do'  every  day,  an' 
I'd  hide  an'  see  her  come  to  the  window  an'  peep  fur 
me.  One  day  she  says,  as  I  was  drinkin'  of  the  coffee  : 
'  Mr.  Wonnell,  what  do  you  put  yourself  at  sech  pains  fur 
to  'blige  a  pore  slave  girl  that  ain't  but  half  white  ?'  I 
thought  a  minute,  so  as  to  say  something  that  wouldn't 
skeer  her  off,  an'  I  says :  '  Roxy,  it's  becaze  I'm  sech  a 
pore,  worthless  felle-r  that  the  white  gals  won't  look  at 
me!'  The  tears  come  right  to  her  eyes,  an'  she  says: 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  171 

'  Mr.  Wonnell,  if  I  was  white  I  would  look  at  you.'  '  I 
believe  you  would/  says  I,  '  becaze  you've  got  a  white 
heart,  Roxy.' " 

"Jack,  you're  a  clog -gone  smart  lover,"  said  Levin. 
"  I  didn't  think  you  had  no  kind  of  sense." 

"  Love-makin'  is  the  best  sense  of  all,"  said  Jack,  "  it's 
that  sense  that  keeps  the  woods  a-full  of  music,  where 
the  birds  an'  bees  is  twitterin'  and  hummin'  an'  a-matin'. 
Love  is  the  last  sense  to  come,  after  you  can  see,  an'  hear, 
an'  feel,  an'  they're  give  to  people  to  find  out  something 
purty  to  love.  Love  was  the  whole  day's  work  in  the 
garding  of  Eden  befo'  man  got  too  industrious,  an'  it's 
all  the  work  I  do,  an'  I  hope  I  clo  it  well." 

"  Now  what  did  Roxy  tell  you  about  Meshach  Milburn 
and  Judge  Custis  ?" 

"  You  see,  Levin,  as  I  kept  up  the  flower-givin',  I  could 
see  a  little  love  start  up  in  purty  Roxy,  but  she  didn't 
understand  it,  an'  I  was  as  keerful  not  to  skeer  it  as  if  it 
had  been  a  snow-bird  hoppin'  to  a  crumb  of  bread.  She 
would  talk  to  me  about  her  little  troubles,  an'  I  listened 
keerful  as  her  mammy,  becaze  little  things  is  what  wim- 
min  lives  on,  an'  a  lady's  man  is  only  a  feller  patient 
with  their  little  talk.  The  more  I  listened  the  more  she 
liked  to  tell  me,  an'  I  saw  that  Roxy  was  "a-thinkin'  a 
great  deal  of  me,  Levin,  without  she  or  me  lettin'  of  it 
on. 

"This  mornin'  she  came  to  the  door  with  her  eyes  jest 
wiped  from  a-cryin'.  Says  I, '  Roxy,  little  dear,  what  ails 
you  ?'  *  Oh,  nothin','  says  she, '  I  can't  tell  you  if  thair  is.' 
'  Here's  your  wild  flowers  for  Miss  Vesty,'  says  I,  *  beau 
tiful  to  see  !'  *  Oh,'  says  Roxy,  *  Miss  Vesty  won't  need 
'em  now.'  Says  I :  *  Roxy,  air  you  goin'  to  have  all  that 
trouble  on  your  mind  an'  not  let  me  carry  some  of  it  ?' 
'  Oh,  my  friend,'  she  says,  *  I  must  tell  you,  fur  you  have 
been  so  kind  to  me  :  don't  whisper  it !  But  my  master 
is  in  debt  to  Meshach  Milburn,  an'  he's  married  Miss 


172  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Vesty,  an'  we  think  we're  all  gwyn  to  be  sold  or  made  to 
live  with  that  man  that  wears  the  bad  man's  hat.'  Says 
I :  '  Roxy,  darling,  maybe  I  kin  buy  you.'  *  Oh,  I  wish 
you  was  my  master,'  Roxy  said.  An'  jest  at  that  minute, 
love  bein'  oncommon  strong  over  me  this  mornin',  I  took 
the  first  kiss  from  Roxy's  mouth,  an'  she  didn't  say 
nothin'  agin  it." 

Here  Jack  Wonnell  kissed  the  atmosphere  several 
times  with  deep  unction,  and  ended  by  a  low  whoop  and 
whistle,  and  looked  at  Levin  Dennis  with  one  eye  shut, 
as  if  to  get  Levin's  opinion  of  all  this. 

"  Well,"  Levin  said,  "  I  never  ain't  been  in  love  yet.  I 
'spect  I  ought  to  be.  But  mother  is  all  I  kin  take  keer 
of,  and,  pore  soul  !  she's  in  so  much  trouble  over  me 
that  she  can't  love  nobody  else.  I  git  drunk,  an'  go 
off  sailin'  so  long,  an'  spend  my  money  so  keerless, 
that  if  the  Lord  didn't  look  out  for  her  maybe  she'd 
starve." 

"  Yes,  Levin,  you  likes  brandy  as  much  as  I  likes  the 
gals.  You  go  off  for  tarrapin,  an'  taters,  an'  oysters,  an' 
peddles  'em  aroun'  Prencess  Anne,  an'  then  somebody 
pulls  you  in  the  grog-shops  an'  away  goes  your  money, 
an'  your  mother  ain't  got  no  tea  and  coffee." 
"  "  Jack,"  said  Levin,  abruptly,  "  do  you  believe  in 
ghosts  ?" 

"I  don't  know,  Levin.  If  I  saw  one  maybe  I  would, 
but  I'm  too  trashy  for  ghosts  to  see  me." 

"  Well,  now,"  Levin  said,  "  there's  a  ghost,  or  some 
thing,  that  looks  out  for  mother  when  I'm  drunk  or  gone, 
an'  it  leaves  tea  and  coffee  in  the  window  for  her." 

"  Sho' !  why,  Levin,  that's  Jimmy  Phcebus  !  He's  ben 
in  love  with  your  mother  for  years  an'  she  won't  have 
him,  but  he  keep's  a  hangin'  on.  He's  your  mother's 
ghost" 

"No,  Jack.  I  thought  it  was  till  Jimmy  come  to  me 
an'  asked  me  who  I  guessed  it  was.  He  was  a  little 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  173 

jealous,  I  reckon.  I  said  :  '  It's  you,  of  course,  Jimmy  !' 
1  No/  says  he,  *  by  smoke  !  I  don't  do  any  hokey-pokey 
like  that.  What  I  give,  I  go  and  give  with  no  sneakin' 
about  it  or  prying  into  Ellanory's  poverty.'  He  was  right 
down  mad,  but  he  couldn't  find  nothing  out.  So  I  think 
it  may  be  the  ghost  of  father,  drowned  at  sea,  bringing 
tea  and  coffee,  and  sometimes  a  dress,  and  a  pair  of 
shoes,  too,  to  keep  mother  warm." 

Levin  Dennis,  standing  against  the  tiller,  seemed  to 
Jack  Wonnell  to  be  fair  and  spiritual  as  a  woman,  as  his 
comely  brow  and  large  eyes  grew  serious  with  this  rela 
tion  of  his  father's  mysterious  fate.  His  dark  auburn 
hair,  in  short  ringlets  parted  in  the  middle,  gave  his  sun 
burnt  countenance  a  likeness  to  some  of  the  old  gentle 
families  with  which  he  was  allied,  his  father  having  been 
a  son  of  younger  sons,  in  a  date  when  primogeniture 
prevailed  in  all  this  bay  region;  and  therefore,  possessing 
nothing,  he  went  into  the  war  against  England  as  a  sailor, 
and  his  family  influence  obtained  for  him  command  of 
the  new  privateer  launched  on  the  Manokin,  the  Ida, 
which  set  sail  with  a  good  crew  and  superior  armament, 
amid  the  acclaims  of  all  Somerset,  and,  sailing  past  the 
Capes  into  the  ocean  with  all  her  bunting  flying,  slid 
clown  the  farther  world  to  everlasting  silence  and  the 
vapors  of  mystery. 

His  widow  waited  long  and  patiently  with  this  only 
boy,  Levin,  a  scarcely  lisping  child,  and  stories  of  every 
kind  were  current ;  that  the  captain  had  been  captured 
and  hanged  by  the  enemy,  and  the  ship  burned  or  con 
demned  ;  that  he  had  hoisted  the  black  flag  and  become 
a  pirate  and  quit  the  western  world  for  the  East  India 
waters ;  and  finally,  that  the  Ida  foundered  off  Guiana  and 
every  soul  was  drowned. 

The  widow,  a  beautiful  woman,  neglected  by  her  hus 
band's  connection,  who  were  sullen  at  the  loss  of  their 
investment  and  their  expected  profits  from  the  vessel, 


174  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

lived  in  the  little  house  she  had  owned  before  her  mar 
riage,  and  sank  into  the  plainer  class  of  people,  almost 
losing  her  identity  with  the  ruling  families  to  which  her 
son  was  kin,  but  in  her  humbler  class  highly  respected 
and  solicited  in  marriage. 

She  was  still  young  and  fair,  and  Jimmy  Phoebus,  a 
hale  bachelor,  and  captain  of  a  trading  schooner,  had 
endeavored  to  marry  her  for  years,  and  held  on  to  his 
hope  patiently,  exercising  many  kind  offices  for  her, 
though  his  means  were  limited,  and  he  had  poor  kin 
looking  to  him  for  help.  She  feared  the  absent  lover 
might  be  alive  and  return  to  find  her  another's  wife. 

So  her  son,  growing  up  without  a  father's  discipline, 
and  being  too  respectable,  it  was  supposed,  to  put  to  a 
trade  or  be  indentured,  lived  by  fugitive  pursuits  on  land 
and  water,  hauling  and  peddling  vegetables  and  provi 
sions  at  times;  and  now,  by  the  gift  of  Jimmy  Phcebus,  he 
sailed  his  little  sloop  or  cat-boat  chiefly  to  carry  terrapin 
to  Baltimore.  Rough  sailor  acquaintances,  exposure,  a 
credulous,  easily  led  nature,  and  almost  total  neglect  of 
school  at  a  time  when  education  was  a  high  privilege, 
had  made  him  wayward  and  often  intemperate,  but  with 
out  developing  any  selfish  or  cruel  characteristics,  and 
being  of  an  agreeable  exterior  and  affable  disposition,  he 
fell  a  prey  to  any  strangers  who  might  be  in  town — gun 
ners,  negro  buyers,  idle  planters,  and  spreeing  overseers, 
many  of  whom  hired  his  company  and  vessel  to  take 
their  excursions ;  and,  while  loving  his  mother,  and  being 
her  only  reliance,  she  saw  him  slipping  further  and  further 
into  manhood  without  steadiness  or  education  or  fixed 
principles,  or  any  female  influence  to  draw  him  to  do 
mestic  constraints. 

His  slender,  supple  figure,  and  marks  of  gentility  in 
his  limbs,  and  shapely  brow  and  large,  gentle  eyes,  poorly 
consorted  with  ragged  clothes,  bare  feet,  and  absolute 
dependence  on  chance  employment,  the  latter  becoming 


BELL-CROWN   MAN.  175 

more  precarious  as  his  age  and  stature  made  more  de 
mands  for  money  through  his  false  appetites. 

"  Jack,"  said  Levin  Dennis,  "  what  do  you  mean  by 
gittin'  money  to  buy  Roxy  Custis  ?  You  never  git  no 
money." 

"Won't  he  give  it  to  me?  Him  ?"  Jack  Wonnell  in 
dicated  the  hatchway  clown  which  Joe  Johnson  had  gone. 
"He's  got  bags  of  it." 

"  Him  ?  Why,  Jack,  how  much  money  do  you  s'pose 
a  beautiful  servant  like  Roxy  will  fetch  ?" 

"  Won't  that  piece  he's  gwyn  to  give  you  buy  her  ?" 

"  Five  dollars  ?  Why,  you  poor  fool,  she  will  bring  five 
hundred  dollars — maybe  thousands.  This  nigger  trader, 
with  all  his  gold,  would  be  hard  pushed,  I  'spect,  to  buy 
Roxy." 

Jack  looked  downcast,  and  failed  to  wink  or  whistle. 

"  Gals  like  her,"  said  Levin,  "  goes  for  mistresses  to  rich 
men,  an'  sometimes  they  ecldicates  'em,  I've  hearn  tell,  to 
know  music,  an'  writin',  an'  grammar,  an'  them  things." 

"And  a  pore  man  who  wouldn't  abuse  a  gal  most 
white  like  that,  but  would  respect  her  an'  marry  her,  too, 
Levin,  they  makes  laws  agin  him  !  Maybe  I  kin  steal 
Roxy  ?" 

Here  Jack  whistled  low,  shut  one  eye  with  deep  know- 
ingness,  and  grinned  behind  his  bell-crown. 

"Oh,  you  simpleton  !"  Levin  said.  "  Where  could  you 
take  her  to  ?" 

•"  Pennsylvany,  Cannydy,  Turkey,  or  some  of  them 
Abolition  states  up  thar  " — Jack  Wonnell  indicated  the 
North  with  his  finger.  "  Ain't  there  no  place  where  a 
white  man  kin  treat  a  bright-skinned  slave  like  that  as 
if  they  both  was  a  Christian  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Levin,  "not  in  this  world." 

The  hero  of  the  bell-crowns  was  much  affected,  and 
Levin  thought  he  really  was  whimpering,  though  his  va 
cant  grin  was  a  poor  frame  for  grief. 


176  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Jack,"  said  Levin,  "if  what  Roxy  Custis  told  is  true, 
the  gal  is  the  slave  of  your  pertickler  enemy,  Meshach 
Milburn." 

The  wearer  of  the  rival  species  of  hat  was  "  badly 
sobered,"  as  Levin  mentally  expressed  it,  at  this  dismal 
solution  of  his  gentle  dreams  of  love.  He  arose  and 
walked  to  the  bow  of  the  boat,  and  looked  down  into  the 
flying  waves  over  which  the  cat-boat  skipped,  as  if  he 
might  seek  the  solution  of  his  own  disconnected  yet 
harmless  life  in  the  bottom  of  the  sound,  among  the 
oyster  rocks. 

The  water  was  now  speckled  with  canoes  and  periau- 
gers  (pirogues),  and  little  sail-boats  coming  from  Deil's 
Island  preaching,  and  before  them  rose  out  of  the  bay 
the  low  woody  islands  and  capes  which,  with  white  straits 
between,  enclose  from  the  long  blue  nave  of  the  Chesa 
peake  the  scalloped  aisle  called  Tangier  Sound.  Like 
pigeons  and  wrens  around  some  cathedral,  the  wild-fowl 
flew  in  these  involuted,  almost  fantastic,  architectures  of 
archipelago  and  peninsula,  which,  lying  flat  to  the  water, 
yet  took  ragged  perspective  there,  as  if  some  Gothic 
builder  had  laid  his  foundations,  but  had  not  bent  the 
tall  pines  together,  that  grew  above  in  palm- like  groves, 
to  make  the  groined  roofs  and  arches  of  his  design. 

Here'  could  be  seen  the  ospreys,  sailing  in  graceful 
pairs  above  the  herrings'  or  the  old  wives'  shoals,  taking 
with  elegance  and  conscientiousness  the  daily  animal  food 
that  even  man  demands,  with  all  his  sentiments  and  gos 
pels.  There  the  canvas-back  duck,  in  a  little  flock,  broke 
the  Sabbath  to  dive  for  the  wild  celery  that  grows  be 
neath  the  sound.  In  yonder  tree  the  bald  eagle  was 
starting  out  upon  his  Algerine  work  of  vehemence  and 
piety,  to  intercept  the  hawk  and  steal  his  cargo.  The 
wild  swan  might  be  those  faint,  far  birds  flying  so  high 
over  Kedge's  Straits,  in  the  south,  and  the  black  loon, 
spreading  his  wings  like  a  demon,  disappears  close  to 


BELL-CROWN    MAN.  177 

the  cat-boat,  and  rises  no  more  till  memory  has  forgot 
ten  him. 

Levin  Dennis  steered  close  to  a  point  where  he  had 
been  wont  to  scatter  food  for  the  black  ducks,  and  draw 
them  to  the  gunner's  ambush.  Sheldrakes  and  goos 
anders,  coots  and  gulls,  whifflers  and  dippers,  made  the 
best  of  Sunday,  and  bathed  and  wrote  their  winged  pen 
manship  on  the  white  sheet  of  water. 

Poor  Jack  Wonnell  returning,  with  something  on  his 
face  between  a  grin  and  a  tear,  said  : 

"  Levin,  didn't  I  never  harm  nobody  ?" 

"  Not  as  I  ever  heard  about,  Jack.  They  say  you 
ain't  got  no  sense,  but  you  never  fight  nobody.  Every 
body  kin  git  along  with  you,  Jack  !" 

"  No  they  can't,  Levin.  Meshach  Milburn  hates  the 
ground  I  tread  on.  If  he  know'd  I  was  in  love  with  lit 
tle  Roxy  he'd  marry  her  to  a  nigger." 

"  What  makes  him  hate  you  so,  Jack  ?" 

"  Becaze  I  wears  my  bell -crowns,  and  he  wears  the 
steeple-top  hat.  He  thinks  I'm  a-mockin'  of  him.  Levin, 
I  ain't  got  no  other  kind  of  hat  to  wear.  Meshach  Mil- 
burn  needn't  wear  that  air  hat,  but  if  I  don't  wear  a  bell- 
crown  I  must  go  bareheaded.  I  bought  that  lot  of  hats 
with  the  only  dollar  or  two  I  ever  had,  as  they  say  a  fool 
an'  his  money  is  soon  parted.  The  boys  said  they  was 
dirt  cheap.  Now  there  wouldn't  be  nothin'  to  see  wrong 
in  my  bell-crowns,  ef  all  the  people  wasn't  pintin'  at  ole 
Milburn's  Entail  Hat,  as  they  call  it.  Why  can't  he, 
rich  as  a  Jew,  go  buy  a  new  hat,  or  buy  me  one  ?  I 
don't  want  to  mock  him.  I'm  afeard  of  him  !  He  looks 
at  me  with  them  loaded  pistols  of  eyes  an'  it  mos'  makes 
me  cry,  becaze  I  ain't  done  nothin'.  I'm  as  pore  as 
them  trash  ducks,"  pointing  to  a  brace  of  dippers,  which 
were  of  no  value  in  the  market,  "  but  I  ain't  got  no 
malice." 

"  No,  Jack.  That  trader  could  give  you  that  bag  of 
12 


178  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

gold  to  keep  and  it  would  be  safe,  becaze  it  wasn't  your 
own." 

"  I  'spect  I  will  have  to  go  to  the  pore-house  some 
day,  Levin ;  my  ole  aunt,  who  takes  keer  of  me,  can't 
live  long,  an'  I  ain't  good  fur  nothin'.  I  can't  git  no  jobs 
and  I  run  arrands  for  everybody  fur  nothin',  but  the  first 
money  I  git  I'm  gwyn  to  buy  a  new  hat  with.  Ever 
sence  I  wore  these  bell-crowns  Meshach  hates  me,  an' 
I  hope  he's  the  only  man  that  does  hate  me,  Levin.  I 
don't  think  Meshach  kin  be  a  bad  man." 

"  How  kin  he  be  good,  Jack  ?" 

"  Why,  I  have  seen  him  in  the  woods  when  he  didn't 
see  me,  calling  up  the  birds.  Danged  if  they  didn't  come 
and  git  on  him !  Now  birds  ain't  gwyn  to  hop  on  a  man 
that's  a  devil,  Levin.  Do  you  believe  he  deals  with  the 
devil?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Levin  ;  "  I  see  sich  quare  things  I  believe 
in  most  anything  quare.  These  yer  tarrapins  has  got 
sense,  and  they're  no  more  like  it  than  a  stone.  One 
night  when  we  hadn't  nothin'  to  eat  at  home,  mother  and 
me,  an'  she  was  a  sittin'  there  with  tears  in  her  eyes 
wonderin'  what  we'd  do  next  day,  I  ree-collected,  Levin, 
that  there  was  four  tarrapins  down  in  the  cellar, — black 
tarrapin,  that  had  been  put  there  six  months  before.  I 
said  to  mother :  '  I  'spect  them  ole  tarrapins  is  dead  an' 
starved,  but  I'll  go  see.' 

"  I  found  'em  under  the  wood-pile,  an'  they  didn't  smell 
nor  nothin',  so  I  took  'em  all  four  up  to  mother  an'  put 
'em  on  the  kitchen  table  befo'  the  fire,  an'  I  devilled  'em 
every  way  to  wake  up,  an'  crawl,  and  show  some  signs 
of  life.  No,  they  was  stone  dead  ! 

"  *  Well,  mother,'  says  I,  '  put  on  your  bilin'  water  an' 
we'll  see  if  dead  tarrapin  is  fit  fur  to  eat !'  She  smiled 
through  her  cryin',  and  put  the  water  on,  an'  when  it  be 
gan  to  bubble  in  the  pot,  I  lifted  up  one  of  them  tarra 
pins  an'  dropped  him  in  the  bilin'  water,  an'  Jack,  I'll  be 


SABBATH    AND    CANOE.  179 

dog-goned  if  them  other  three  tarrapins  didn't  run  right 
off  the  table  an'  drop  on  to  the  flo'  an'  skeet  for  that  cel 
lar  door  ! 

"  I  caught  'em  an'  biled  'em,  an'  as  we  sat  there  eatin' 
stewed  tarrapin  without  no  salt,  or  sherry  wine,  or  coffee, 
or  even  corn  -  bread,  we  heard  somethin'  like  paper 
scratchin'  on  the  window,  an'  mother  fell  back  and 
clasped  her  hands,  an'  said,  'There,  do  you  hear  the 
ghost  ?' 

"  I  rushed  to  the  door  an'  hopped  into  the  yard,  an' 
not  a  livin'  creature  did  I  see ;  but  there  on  the  window- 
shelf  was  packages  of  salt,  coffee,  tea,  and  flour,  and  a 
half  a  dollar  in  silver  !  I  run  back  in  the  house,  white  as 
a  ghost  myself,  an'  I  cried  out,  '  Mother,  it's  father's  sper- 
rit  come  again  !' 

"  She  made  me  git  on  my  knees  an'  pray  with  her  to 
give  poor  father's  spirit  comfort  in  his  home  or  in  heav 
en !" 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SABBATH     AND    CANOE. 

THEY  now  approached  an  island  with  low  bluffs,  on 
which  appeared  a  considerable  village,  shining  whitely 
amid  the  straight  brown  trunks  of  a  grove  of  pine-trees ; 
but  no  people  seemed  moving  about  it,  and  they  saw  but 
a  single  vessel  at  anchor  in  the  thoroughfare  or  strait 
they  steered  into — a  canoe,  which  revealed  on  her  bow, 
as  they  rounded  to  beside  her,  a  word  neither  Levin  nor 
Jack  could  read,  except  by  hearsay  :  The  Methodist. 

"Jack,"  said  Levin,  "that  was  a  big  pine-tree  the  par 
son  hewed  his  canoe  outen.  She  fell  like  cannon,  going 
off  inter  the  swamp.  She's  a'most  five  fathom  long,  an' 
a  man  can  lie  clown  acrost  her.  She's  to  carry  the  Meth« 
odis'  preachers  out  to  the  islands." 


l8o  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Hadn't  we  better  wake  him  up  now  ?"  said  Jack  Won- 
nell ;  "  I  'spect  you  want  a  drink,  Levin  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  got  a  thirst  on  me  like  fire,"  Levin  exclaimed. 
"  I  could  do  somethin'  wicked  now,  I  'spect,  for  a  drink 
of  that  brandy." 

Mooring  against  the  shore,  Levin  went  to  his  passenger, 
who  was  still  in  deep  sleep  stretched  upon  the  bare  floor 
of  the  hold  or  cabin — a  brawny,  wiry  man,  with  strong 
chin  and  long  jaws,  and  his  reddish,  dark  beard  matted 
with  the  blood  that  had  spilled  from  his  disfigured  eye, 
and  now  disguised  nearly  one  half  his  face,  and  gave  him 
a  wild,  bandit  look. 

"  Cap'n  !  mister !  boss  !  wake  up  !  We  have  come  to 
Deil's  Island." 

The  long  man,  lying  on  his  back,  seemed  unable  to 
turn  over  upon  his  side,  though  he  muttered  in  his  stirred 
sleep  such  words  as  Levin  could  not  understand : 

"  The  darbies,  Patty  !  Make  haste  with  them  darbies  ! 
Put  the  nippers  on  her  wrists  an'  twist  'em.  Ha !  the 
mort  is  dying.  Well,  to  the  garden  with  her !" 

At  this  he  awoke,  and  turned  his  cold,  light  eyes  on 
Levin,  and  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"  Did  you  hear  me  ?"  he  cried.  "  It  was  only  nums, 
kid,  and  jabber  of  a  nazy  man.  Some  day  this  sleep- 
talk  will  grow  my  neck-weed.  Don't  mind  me,  Levin  ! 
Come,  lush  and  cock  an  organ  with  me,  my  bene  cove !" 

"  If  you  mean  brandy,"  Levin  said,  "  I  must  have  some 
or  I'll  jump  out  of  my  skin.  I  feel  like  the  man  with  the 
poker  was  a-comin'." 

Joe  Johnson  gave  him  the  jug  and  held  it  up,  and  the 
boy  drank  like  one  desperate. 

"How  the  young  jagger  lushes  his  jockey,"  the  tall 
man  muttered.  "He's  in  Job's  dock  to-day.  I'll  take 
no  more.  A  bloody  fool  I  was  all  yesterday,  an'  oaring 
with  my  picture-frame.  What  place  is  this?" 

"Deil's  Island,  sir." 


SABBATH   AND   CANOE.  l8l 

"  Ha !  so  it  is.  'Twas  Devil's  Island  once,  till  the 
Methodies  changed  it  fur  politeness.  This  is  the  camp- 
meetin',  then  ?  Yer,  Wonnell,  take  this  piece  of  money, 
an'  go  to  some  house  an'  fetch  us  a  bite  of  dinner.  We'll 
wait  fur  you." 

The  tall  man  lecl  the  way  to  the  heart  of  the  grove  of 
pines,  where  the  seeming  town  was  found — a  deserted 
religious  encampment  of  durable  wooden  shells,  or  huts, 
in  concentric  circles  of  horseshoe  shape,  and  at  the  open 
end  of  the  circle  was  the  preaching-stand,  a  shed  elevated 
above  the  empty  benches  and  pegs  of  removed  benches, 
and  which  had  a  wide  shelf  running  across  the  whole 
front  for  the  preacher's  Bible,  and  to  receive  his  thwacks 
as  he  walked  up  and  down  his  platform. 

It  looked  a  little  mysterious  now,  with  the  many  evi 
dences  of  a  large  human  occupation  in  the  recent  sum 
mer,  to  see  this  naked  town  and  hollow  pulpit  lying  so 
suggestively  under  the  long  moan  of  the  pine-trees,  con 
ferring  together  like  dread  angels  in  council,  and  ex 
pressing  at  every  rising  breeze  their  impatience  with  the 
sins  of  men. 

At  times  the  great  branches  paused  awhile,  scarcely 
murmuring,  as  if  they  were  brooding  on  some  question 
propounded  in  their  council,  or  listening  to  human  wit 
nesses  below ;  and  then  they  would  gravely  converse,  as 
the  regular  zephyrs  moved  in  and  out  among  them,  and 
pause  again,  as  if  their  decision  was  almost  dreaded  by 
themselves.  At  intervals,  a  stern  spirit  in  the  pines 
would  rise  and  thunder  and  shake  the  shafts  of  the  trees, 
and  others  would  answer  him,  and  patience  would  have 
a  season  again.  And  so,  with  scarcely  ever  a  silence 
that  remained  more  than  a  moment,  this  council  went  on 
all  day,  continued  all  night,  was  resumed  as  the  sun 
arose  to  comfort  the  world  again,  ceased  not  when  the 
rainbow  hung  out  its  perennial  assurance  upon  the  storm, 
and  typified  to  trembling  worshippers  the  great  synod  of 


1 82  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  Creator,  in  everlasting  session,  ready  to  smite  the 
world  with  fire,  but  suspending  sentence  in  the  evergreen 
pity  of  God. 

In  one  of  the  deserted  shells,  or  "tents,"  of  pine,  with 
neatly  shingled  roof,  facing  the  preaching -booth,  Joe 
Johnson  and  Levin  Dennis  found  benches,  and,  at  the 
tall  man's  example,  Levin  also  lighted  a  pipe,  and  looked 
out  between  the  escapes  of  smoke  at  Tangier  Sound,  de 
serted  as  this  camp-ground  on  the  Sabbath,  since  the 
worshippers  had  reached  home  from  church  in  their  ca 
noes.  He  thought  of  his  lonely  mother  in  the  town  of 
Princess  Anne,  wondering  where  he  was,  and  of  the  Sun 
days  fast  speeding  by  and  bringing  him  to  manhood,  with 
no  change  in  their  condition  for  the  better,  but  penury 
and  disappointment,  a  vague  expectation  of  the  dead  to 
return,  and  deeper  intemperance  of  the  dead  man's  son 
and  widow's  only  hope.  He  would  have  cried  out  with 
a  sense  of  misery  contagious  from  the  music  of  those 
pines  above  him,  perhaps,  if  the  brandy  had  not  begun  to 
creep  along  his  veins  and  shine  bold  in  his  large,  girlish 
eyes. 

"Levin,"  said  Joe  Johnson,  "don't  you  like  me?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Johnson,  I  think  I  does,  'cept  when  you  use 
them  quare  words  I  can't  understan'." 

"  I'm  dead  struck  with  you,  Levin,"  Joe  Johnson  said. 
"  I  want  to  fix  you  an'  your  mother  comfortable.  You're 
blood  stock,  an'  ought  to  be  stabled  on  gold  oats." 

He  drew  the  canvas  bag  of  eagles  and  half-eagles  out 
of  his  trousers,  and  held  its  mouth  open  for  Levin  to 
feast  his  eyes. 

"Thar,"  said  he,  "  I  told  you,  Levin,  I  was  a-goin'  to 
give  you  one  of  them  purties.  I've  changed  my  mind  ; 
I'm  a-goin'  to  give  you  five  of  'em  !" 

"My  Lord  !"  exclaimed  Levin  ;  "  that's  twenty-five  dol 
lars,  ain't  it,  sir?" 

''Oil  korrect,  Levin.     Five  of  them  finniffs  makes  a 


SABBATH   AND   CANOE.  183 

quarter  of  a  hundred  dollars— more  posh,  Levin,  I  'spect, 
than  ever  you  see." 

"I  never  had  but  ten,  sir,  at  a  time,  an'  that  I  put  in 
this  boat,  and  Jimmy  Phoebus  put  ten  to  it,  an'  that  paid 
for  her." 

"  What  a  stingy  pam  he  was  to  give  you  only  ten  !" 
Joe  Johnson  exclaimed,  with  disgust.  "  Ain't  I  a  better 
friend  to  ye  ?  Yer,  take  the  money  now  /" 

He  pressed  the  gold  pieces  ostentatiously  upon  the 
boy,  who  looked  at  them  with  fear,  yet  fascination. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  to  earn  all  this,  Mr.  Johnson  ?" 

"  You  comes  with  me  fur  a  week, — you  an'  yer  boat. 
I  charters  you  at  that  figger !" 

"  But— mother  ?" 

"Well,  when  we  discharge  pigwidgeon,  your  friend 
with  the  bell  shape — Jack  Sheep  yer — all  you  got  to  do, 
Levin,  is  to  send  the  hard  cole  to  your  mother  by  him, 
sayin',  *  Bless  you,  marm  ;  my  wages  will  excoos  my 
face !' " 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  will  do.  Mother  will  know  by  the  money 
that  I  have  got  a  long  job,  and  not  be  a  'spectin'  of  me. 
When  do  we  sail,  cap'n  ?" 

"  How  fur  is  it  to  Prencess  Anne  ?  What  time  to-night 
kin  you  make  it  ?" 

Levin  stepped  out  of  the  shanty  and  looked  at  the 
wind  and  water,  his  pulses  all  a-flutter  between  the  strong 
brandy  and  the  wonderful  gold  in  his  pocket ;  and  as  he 
watched  the  veering  of  the  pine-boughs  to  see  which  way 
they  moved,  their  moaning  seemed  to  be  the  voice  of  his 
widowed  mother  by  her  kitchen  fire  that  day,  saying, 
"  He  is  in  trouble.  Where  is  my  son  ?  Why  stays  he, 
O  my  Levin  ?" 

"  The  tide  is  on  the  stand,  cap'n,  an'  will  turn  in  half 
an  hour.  It  will  take  us  up  the  Manokin  with  this  wind 
by  dark,  ef  we  can  get  water  enough  in  the  thoroughfare 
without  going  around  by  Little  Deil's." 


184  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Johnson  came  out  and  made  the  same  observations  on 
wind  and  flood. 

"  I  reckon  it's  eighteen  miles  to  the  head  of  deep  wa 
ter  on  Manokin,  Levin  ?" 

"  Not  quite,  sir,  through  the  'thoroughfare ;  it's  nigh 
eighteen.  We've  got  four  hours  and  a  half  of  daylight 
yet." 

"Then  stand  for  the  head  of  Manokin  an'  obey  all  my 
orders  like  a  'listed  man,  an'  I'll  git  ye  and  yer  mother  a 
plantation,  an'  stock  it  with  niggers  for  you.  Come, 
brace  up  again  !" 

He  offered  the  brandy-jug,  and  encouraged  the  boy  to 
drink  heartily,  and  affected  to  do  the  same  himself, 
though  it  was  but  a  feint. 

While  they  stood  in  the  shelter  of  the  camp  cottage 
going  through  this  pastime,  a  voice  from  near  at  hand 
resounded  through  the  woods,  and  made  their  blood  stop 
to  circulate  for  an  instant  on  the  arrested  heart. 

It  was  a  voice  making  a  prayer  at  a  high  pitch,  as  if 
intended  to  cover  all  the  camp-ground  and  be  heard  to 
the  outermost  bounds.  The  sincerity  of  the  sound  made 
Levin  Dennis  feel  that  the  camp  might  still  be  inhabited 
by  some  spiritual  congregation  which  the  eyes  of  profane 
visitors  could  not  see — the  remainder  of  the  saints,  the 
souls  of  the  converted,  or  an  ethereal  host  from  above  the 
solemn  organ  of  the  pines. 

The  idea  had  scarcely  seized  upon  him  when  a  flutter 
ing  of  wings  was  heard,  and  on  the  old  camp -ground 
alighted  a  flock  of  white  wild-geese. 

They  balanced  their  large  deacon  and  elder-like  bod 
ies  upon  the  empty  seats,  and  there  set  up  as  grave  a 
squawking  as  if  they  were  singing  a  hymn,  with  that  in 
different  knowledge  of  harmony  possessed  by  camp-meet 
ing  choristers. 

The  accident  of  their  coming — no  unusual  thing  on 
these  exposed  islands  —  might  have  made  untroubled 


SABBATH   AND    CANOE.  185 

people  only  laugh,  but  it  produced  the  contrary  effect  on 
both  our  visitors.  Levin  felt  a  superstitious  fear  seize 
upon  him,  and,  turning  to  Joe  Johnson,  he  saw  that  per 
son  with  a  face  so  pale  that  it  showed  his  blood-gathered 
eye  yet  darker  and  more  hideous,  like  a  brand  upon  his 
countenance,  gazing  upon  the  late  empty  preaching- 
booth. 

There  Levin,  turning  his  eyes,  observed  a  solitary  man 
kneeling,  of  a  plain  appearance  and  dress,  and  with  locks 
of  womanly  hair  falling  carelessly  upon  a  large  and  al 
most  noble  forehead,  his  arms  raised  to  heaven  and  his 
voice  flowing  out  in  a  mellow  stream  of  supplication,  in 
the  intervals  of  which  the  geese  could  be  heard  quacking 
aloud  and  paddling  their  wings  as  they  balanced  and 
hopped  over  the  camp-meeting  arena. 

"Who's  he  a  prayin'  to?"  Levin  asked  of  Joe  Johnson. 

"  Quemar  !"  muttered  Johnson,  as  if  he  were  terrified  at 
something;  "his  potato-trap  is  swallerin'  ghosts  !  Curse 
on  the  swaddler?  The  kid  will  whindle  directly.  Come, 
boy,  come !" 

At  this,  seizing  Levin's  hand,  partly  in  persuasion, 
partly  as  if  he  wanted  the  lad's  protection,  Johnson, 
fairly  trembling,  ran  for  the  boat. 

Levin  was  frightened  too ;  the  more  that  he  saw  the 
stronger  man's  fear.  As  they  dashed  across  the  camp 
ground  the  wild-geese  took  alarm,  and,  some  running, 
some  flying,  scudded  towards  the  Sound.  A  voice  from 
the  pulpit  cried  after  the  retreating  men,  but  only  to  in 
crease  their  fears,  and  when  they  leaped  on  board  the 
Ellenora,  Joe  Johnson  was  livid  with  terror.  He  ran 
partly  down  the  companion-way  and  stopped  to  look 
back:  the  wild-geese  were  now  spreading  their  wings 
like  a  fleet  of  fleecy  sails,  and  fluttering  down  the  sound 
in  gallant  convoy. 

"What  did  you  run  for?"  Levin  said;  "the  jug  of 
brandy  is  left.  It  was  only  Parson  Thomas  1" 


1 86  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"You  run  first,"  the  man  replied,  gasping  for  breath, 
and  a  little  ashamed.  "  What  did  he  preach  at  me  fur  ?" 

"  That's  the  parson  of  the  islands,"  Levin  said ;  "  he 
started  Deil's  Island  camp-meetin'  last  year,  an'  his 
favo-rite  preacher  dyin'  jess  as  he  got  it  done,  ole  Pap 
Thomas,  who  lives  yer,  comes  out  to  the  preachin'-stand 
sometimes  alone,  an'  has  a  cry  and  a  prayer.  The  geese 
scared  me^  cap'n." 

"Push  off!"  ordered  Joe  Johnson;  "my  teeth  are 
most  a-chatterin'  with  the  chill  that  mace  cove  give 
me." 

He  pulled  up  the  anchor,  hoisted  the  jib,  and  showed 
such  nervous  apprehension  that  Levin  subsided  to  man 
aging  the  helm,  and  steered  down  the  thoroughfare,  or 
strait,  which,  for  some  distance,  wound  around  the  camp- 
meeting  grove. 

"Yer's  Jack  Wonnell  comin'  with  the  jug  and  the  din 
ner.  Sha'n't  we  wait  fur  him  ?" 

"  He's  got  the  kingdom-come  cove  with  him  !  No ; 
stop  for  nothing." 

But  the  boat  had  to  stop,  as  her  keel  scraped  the  mud 
in  the  almost  dry  thoroughfare,  and  a  plain  island  man 
of  benevolent,  nearly  credulous,  face,  hailed  them,  saying, 
stutteringly : 

"  Ne-ne-neighbors,  do-don't  be  sc-scared  that  a-way. 
We  ain't  he-eee-thens  yer.  Br-br-brother  Wonnell's 
bringin'  your  taters  and  pone." 

"  Come  on,  an'  be  damned  to  you  ?"  Johnson  cried  to 
Wonnell.  "  What  do  we  want  with  this  tolabon  sauce  ?" 

"  Sw-w-wear  not  a-a-at  all !"  cried  the  parson  of  the 
islands.  "  'Twon't  1-1-lift  ye  over  1-1-low  tide,  brother. 
Stay  an'  eat,  an'  t-t-talk  a  little  with  us.  Why,  I  have 
seen  that  f-f-face  before  !" 

"Never  in  a  gospel-ken  before,"  the  slave-dealer  mut 
tered,  with  an  oath. 

"  B-but  it  can't  be  him,"  spoke  the  island  parson,  with 


SABBATH    AND   CANOE.  187 

solemnity.  "  Ole  Ebenezer  Johnson  died  s-s-several  year 
ago." 

"  Who  was  he  ?"  cried  the  slave-dealer,  with  a  little  re 
spectful  interest. 

"  Ebenez-z-zer  Johnson,"  Parson  Thomas  replied,  with 
a  mild  and  credulous  countenance,  "  was  the  wickedest 
man  on  the  Eastern  Sho'  for  twenty  year.  P-pardon  me, 
brother,  fur  a  likin'  ye  to  him,  but  somethin'  in  ye  y-y-yur," 
passing  his  hand  upon  his  skull,  "  p-puts  me  in  mind  of 
him.  It  was  hyur  he  was  shot" — still  keeping  his  hand 
upon  the  skull  — "  through  an'  through,  an'  died  the 
death  of  the  sinner.  I  have  p-p-put  my  f-finger  through 
the  two  holes  where  the  b  bullet  come  an'  went,  an'  rid 
this  w-world  of  a  d-d-demon  !" 

The  story  appeared  to  have  a  fascination  for  the  slave- 
buyer,  Levin  Dennis  thought,  and  Johnson  exclaimed  : 

"  Well,  hod,  did  he  ever  run  afoul  of  you  ?" 

"  O  y-y-yes,"  answered  the  genial  island  exhorter,  with 
obliging  loquacity;  "it  was  tw-w-enty-s-seven  year  ago 
that  I  see  ole  Eben-nezer  Johnson  come  on  the  camp 
ground  of  P-p-pungoteague  with  a  mob  of  p-p-pirates  to 
break  up  the  f-f-fust  Methodies  camp-meetin'  ever  held 
about  these  sounds.  He  was  en-c-couraged  by  ole  King 
Custis,  f-f-father  of  our  Daniel  Custis,  of  Prencess  Anne, 
who  was  a  b-b-big  man  fur  the  Establish  Church  an' 
d-dispised  the  Methodies.  It  was  a  cowardly  thing  to 
do,  but  while  King  C-C-Custis  laughed  and  talked  a' 
durin'  of  the  p-p-preachin',  Eb-b-b-benezer  Johnson  start 
ed  a  fight.  The  preacher  c-c-cut  his  eye  and  saw  who 
was  a  w-w-winkin'  at  the  interference.  He  was  a  1-1-lion 
of  the  L-l-lord,  and  bore  the  c-c-commission  of  Immanuel. 
He  knowed  he  was  outen  the  s-s-state  of  Maryland  and 
over  in  the  V-v-vergeenia  county  of  Ac-c-comack,  an' 
that  if  the  1-1-aws  was  a  little  more  t-t-tolerant  sence  the 
Revolutionary  war  the  ar-r-ristocracy  there  was  b-bitter 
as  ever  towards  the  people  of  the  Lord.  He  t-t-urned 


1 88  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

from  his  preachin'  at  last,  right  on  King  Custis,  an'  he 
pinted  his  f-finger  at  him  straight.  The  p-preacher  was 
L-1-lorenzo  Dow." 

"  Wheoo  !"  Jack  Wonnell  exclaimed,  with  a  coinciding 
grin  ;  "  I've  hearn  of  him  :  a  Yankee-faced  feller,  like  a 
woman,  with  long  braids  an'  curls  of  hair  fallin'  around 
of  his  breast  an'  back,  and  a  ole  straw  hat,  rain  or  shine." 

"  That  was  L-1-lorenzo  Dow,"  the  parson  of  the  islands 
said.  "  He  turned  on  K-k-king  Custis  and  screamed, 
'  W-who  art  thou  ?  The  L-lord  shall  smite  thee,  w-whited 
sepulchre,  and  m-mock  thee  in  thy  ch-h-hildren's  children, 
thou  A-a-a-hab  and  thy  J-j-jezebel !'  It  was  King  Cus- 
tis's  wife  he  pinted  at,  too,  the  greatest  lady  and  heiress 
in  V-v-virgeenia.  Sh-h-e  f-f-ainted  in  f-fear  or  r-rage  to 
hear  the  prophecy  and  insult  of  her.  Then,  turning  on 
Eb-b-benezer  Johnson,  Lorenzo  Dow  cried  out,  'The 
dogs  shall  lie  buried  safer  than  his  bones.  Lay  hold 
of  him,  brethren  !'  And  s-somethirfg  in  Lorenzo  Dow's 
t-trumpet-blast  made  every  M-methodis'  a  giant.  They 
s-swept  on  Ebenezer  Johnson,  the  bully  of  thr-ree  states, 
an'  beat  him  to  the  ground,  an'  raced  his  band  to  their 
boats,  an'  then  they  th-hrew  him  into  a  little  j-j-jail  they 
had  on  the  camp-ground,  f-for  safe  keeping." 

"What  did  King  Custis  do  then,  Pappy  Thomas?" 
asked  Levin. 

"  Why,  brethren,  what  did  he  do  but  use  his  f-f-family 
influence  to  g-git  out  a  warrant  for  the  preacher  and  his 
m-managers,  on  the  ground  of  f-false  imprisonment  and 
s-slander !  Lorenzo  Dow  got  over  into  Maryland  s-safe 
from  the  warrant,  but  our  p-presiding  elder  was  p-put  in 
jail  till  he  could  p-pay  two  thousand  dollars  fine.  It  al 
most  beggared  the  poor  Methodies  of  that  day  to  raise 
so  much  money,  but>  g-glory  be  to  G-god !  we  can  raise 
it  now  any  day  in  the  year,  and  in  the  next  g-generation 
we  can  buy  our  p-persecutors." 

"  So  Ebenezer  Johnson,  accordin'  to  the  autum  bawl- 


SABBATH   AND   CANOE.  189 

er's  patter,  got  popped  in  the  mazzard,  my  brother  of  the 
surplice  ?  But  he  didn't  climb  no  ladder,  did  he  ?" 

The  stuttering  host  seemed  not  to  comprehend  this 
sneering  exclamation,  and  Levin  Dennis  said : 

"  King  Custis  wasn't  killed,  was  he,  Pappy  Thomas  ?" 

"  It  was  his  children's  children  his  p-p-punishment 
was  promised  to,"  the  island  parson  said,  "  and  to  the 
Lord  a  thousand  y-years  are  but  as  d-days." 

"  The  tide  is  fuller,  Levin,"  Joe  Johnson  cried,  "  your 
keel  is  clear.  Now  pint  her  for  Manokin.  So  bingavast, 
my  benen  cove,  and  may  you  chant  all  by  yourself  when 
I  am  gone  !" 

"  God  bless  the  boys  !"  the  islander  cried,  "  an'  k-keep 
them  from  the  f-fire  everlasting  that  is  burning  in  your 
jug.  And  s-s-stranger,  remember  the  end  of  Eb-b-benezer 
Johnson,  an'  repent !" 

The  old  man,  barefooted,  stoop-shouldered,  stuttering, 
yet  with  a  chord  of  natural  rhetoric  in  his  high  fiddle- 
string  of  a  windpipe,  stood  looking  after  them  till  they 
passed  down  the  thoroughfare  under  the  jib-sail,  and  Joe 
Johnson  did  not  say  a  word  till  some  marsh  brush  inter 
vened  between  them,  he  being  apparently  under  a  remnant 
of  that  panic  which  had  seized  him  on  the  camp-ground. 

"  That's  a  good  man,"  Levin  Dennis  said,  giving  the 
tiller  to  Jack  Wonnell  and  raising  the  sail;  "  he  preached 
to  the  Britishers  when  they  sailed  from  Tangiers  Islands 
to  take  Baltimore,  and  told  'em  they  would  be  beat  an' 
their  gineral  killed.  He's  made  the  oystermen  all  round 
yer  jine  the  island  churches  an'  keep  Sunday.  That 
stutterin'  leaves  him  when  he  preaches,  and  when  he 
leads  the  shout  in  meetin'  it's  piercin'  as  a  horn." 

"  He's  a  bloody  Romany  rogue,"  Joe  Johnson  mut 
tered,  "  to  tell  me  such  a  tale!  But,  kirjalis  !  he  cursed 
not  me !" 

"  What  language  is  that,  Mr.  Johnson  ?  Is  it  Dutch 
or  Porteygee  ?" 


190  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  It's  what  we  call  the  gypsy ;  some  calls  it  the  Quaker. 
It's  convenient,  Levin,  when  you  go  to  Philadelfey,  or 
Washinton,  or  New  York,  or  some  o'  them  big  cities,  an' 
wants  to  talk  to  men  of  enterprise  without  the  quails 
a-pipin'  of  you.  Some  day  I'll  larn  it  to  you  if  you're  a 
good  boy." 

They  now  sailed  out  of  the  thoroughfare  into  the  broad 
mouth  of  the  Manokin,  where  a  calm  fell  upon  air  and 
water  for  a  little  while,  and  they  could  hear  smothered 
music,  as  of  drum-fish  beneath  the  water,  beating,  "  thum  ! 
(hum  !"  and  crabs  and  alewives  rose  to  the  surface  around 
them,  chased  by  the  tailor-fish.  The  cat-boat  drifted  into 
the  mouth  of  a  creek  where  rock  and  perch  were  running 
on  the  top  of  the  water,  and  with  the  tongs  Jack  Wonnell 
raised  half  a  bushel  of  oysters  in  a  few  dips,  and  opened 
them  for  the  party.  Along  the  shores  wild  haws  and  wild 
plums  still  adhered  to  the  bushes,  and  the  stiff-branched 
persimmon-trees  bore  thousands  of  their  tomato-like  fruit. 
The  partridges  were  chirping  in  the  corn,  the  crow  black 
birds  held  a  funeral  feast  around  the  fodder,  some  old- 
time  bayside  mansions  stretched  their  long  sides  and 
speckled  negro  quarters  along  the  inlets,  half  hidden  by 
the  nut-trees,  and  in  the  air  soared  the  turkey-buzzard, 
like  a  voluptuary  politician,  taking  beauty  from  nothing 
but  his  lofty  station. 

"  The  ole  Eastern  Sho',"  Jack  Wonnell  said,  with  his 
animated  vacancy,  "  is  jess  stuffed  with  good  things,  Cap'n 
Johnsin.  You  kin  fall  ovaboard  most  anywhair  an'  git  a 
full  meal.  You  kin  catch  a  bucket  of  crabs  with  a  piece 
of  a  candle  befo'  breakfast,  an'  shoot  a  wild-cluck  mos' 
with  your  eyes  shet." 

"  This  country's  good  for  nothin',"  Joe  Johnson  said. 
"  Floredey  is  the  land  !  Wot  kin  a  nigger  earn  for  yer? 
Corn,  taters,  melons  :  faugh  !  Tobacco  is  a  givin'  out, 
cotton  won't  live  yer.  But  Floredey  is  the  hell-dorader 
of  the  yearth." 


SABBATH   AND   CANOE.  191 

"What's  the  hell-dorador  ?"  asked  Levin. 

"  That's  Spanish  or  Porteygee  for  cheap  niggers  an' 
cotton, ';  cried  the  trader.  "  Cotton's  the  bird  !" 

"  I  thought  cotton  was  a  wool,"  Levin  said. 

"  No,  boy,  cotton  is  a  plant,  growin'  like  a  raspberry 
on  a  bush, -bavin*  pushed  the  blossoms  off  an'  burst  the 
pods  below  'em,  an'  thar  it  is  fur  niggers  to  pick  it. 
Thau's  a  Yankee  in  Georgey  made  a  cotton-gin  to  gin  it 
clean,  an'  now  all  the  world  wants  some  of  it." 

"  Some  of  the  gin  ?"  asked  the  irrelevant  Wonnell. 

"  No,  some  of  the  cotton,  Doctor  Green  !  They  can't 
git  enough  of  it.  Eurip  is  crazy  about  it,  but  there  ain't 
niggers  enough  to  pick  it  all.  So  I'm  in  the  nigger  trade 
an'  tryin'  to  be  useful  to  my  country,  an'  wot  does  I  git 
fur  it  ?  I  git  looked  down  on,  an'  a  nigger's  pertected 
fur  a-topperin'  of  me  !  But  never  mind,  I'll  be  a  big 
skull  yet,  an'  keep  my  kerrige — in  Floredey." 

"What's  Floredey  good  fur?"  Levin  asked. 

"  It's  full  of  nigger  Injins,  Simminoles,  every  one  of 
'em  goin'  to  be  caught  an'  branded,  an'  put  at  cotton  an' 
tobakker  plantin',  an'  hog  an'  cow  herclin'.  More  nig 
gers  will  be  run  in  from  Cubey,  an'  all  the  free  niggers 
in  Delaware  and  up  North  will  be  sold,  an'  you  an'  me, 
Levin,  is  gwyn  to  own  a  drove  of  'em  an'  have  a  orchard 
of  oranges  an'  a  thousand  acres  of  cotton  in  bloom. 
We'll  hold  our  heads  up.  Your  mother  shall  be  switched 
to  a  nabob.  My  wife  will  be  a  shakester  in  diamonds. 
We'll  dispise  Cambridge  an'  Princess  Anne,  an'  there 
sha'n't  be  a  free  nigger  left  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
We'll  swig  to  it !" 

The  sick-headed  yet  fancy-ridden  Levin  drank  again, 
and  listened  to  the  dealer's  marvellous  tales  of  golden 
fruit  on  coasts  of  indigo,  and  palms  that  sheltered  par 
rots  calling  to  the  wild  deer.  Jack  Wonnell  took  the 
helm  when  Levin  lay  clown  to  sleep  in  the  little  cabin, 
still  lulled  by  tales  of  wealth  and  lawless  daring,  and 


IQ2  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

there  he  slept  the  deep  sleep  of  the  castaway,  when  the 
vessel  grounded  at  dusk,  in  the  sound  of  evening  church- 
bells,  at  Princess  Anne. 

"  Let  him  sleep,"  Joe  Johnson  spoke  ;  "yer,Wonnell,  I 
give  you  tray  of  his  strangers  to  take  to  his  mommy," 
handing  out  three  gold  pieces.  "  Don't  you  forgit  it ! 
Yer's  a  syebuck  fur  you,"  giving  Jack  a  sixpence.  "  You 
an'  me  will  part  company  at  Prencess  Anne." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

UNDER   AN    OLD    BONNET. 

VESTA  had  been  sitting  half  an  hour  beside  her  uncon 
scious  husband,  listening  to  his  broken  speech,  and  think 
ing  upon  the  rapidity  of  events  once  started  on  their 
course,  like  eaglets  scarcely  taught  to  fly  before  they  at 
tack  and  kill,  when  the  sound  of  carriage-wheels,  arrested 
at  the  door,  called  her  to  the  window,  and  Tom,  the  mock 
ing-bird,  which  had  been  comparatively  quiet  since  he 
found  his  master  snugly  cared  for,  now  began  to  hop 
about,  fly  in  the  air,  and  sing  again  : 

"Sweet — sweet — sweetie!  come  see!  come  see!" 

Vesta  saw  Meshach's  wiry,  deliberate  colored  man  step 
down  and  turn  the  horses'  heads,  and  there  dropped  from 
the  carriage,  without  using  the  carriage-step,  at  a  leap 
and  a  skip,  a  young  female  object  whose  head  was  invis 
ible  in  an  enormous  coal-scuttle  bonnet  of  figured  blue 
chintz.  However  quick  she  executed  the  leap,  Vesta  ob 
served  that  the  arrival  had  forgotten  to  put  on  her  stock 
ings. 

Before  Vesta  could  turn  from  the  window  this  sin 
gular  object  had  darted  up  the  dark  stairs  of  the  old 
storehouse  and  thrown  herself  on  the  delirious  man's 
bed: 


UNDER  AN   OLD    BONNET.  193 

"  Uncle,  Uncle  Meshach  !  air  you  dead,  uncle  ?  Wake 
up  and  kiss  your  Rhudy !" 

She  had  kissed  her  uncle  plentifully  while  awaiting  the 
same  of  him,  and  the  attack  a  little  excited  him,  without 
recalling  his  mind  to  any  sustained  remembrance,  though 
Vesta  heard  the  words  "  dear  child,"  before  he  turned  his 
head  and  chased  the  wild  poppies  again.  Then  the 
young  female,  ejaculating, 

"Lordsakes!  Uncle  don't  know  his  Rhudy !"  pulled 
her  black  apron  over  her  head  and  had  a  silent  cry — a 
little  convulsion  of  the  neck  and  not  an  audible  sigh  be 
sides. 

"She  weeps  with  some  refinement,"  Vesta  thought; 
and  also  observed  that  the  visitor  was  a  tall,  long-fin 
gered,  rather  sightly  girl  of,  probably,  seventeen,  with 
clothing  the  mantuamaker  was  guiltless  of,  and  a  hoop 
bonnet,  such  as  old  people  continued  to  make  in  remem 
brance  of  the  high-decked  vessels  which  had  brought  the 
last  styles  to  them  when  their  ancestors  emigrated  with 
their  all,  and  forever,  from  a  land  of  modes.  The  bonnet 
was  a  remarkable  object  to  Vesta,  though  she  had  seen 
some  such  at  a  distance,  coming  in  upon  the  heads  of  the 
forest  people  to  the  Methodist  church.  It  resembled  the 
high-pooped  ship  of  Columbus,  which  he  had  built  so 
high  on  purpose,  the  girls  at  the  seminary  said,  so  as  to 
have  the  advantage  of  spying  the  New  World  first ;  but  it 
also  resembled  the  long,  hollow,  bow-shaped  Conestoga 
wagons  of  which  Vesta  had  seen  so  many  going  past  her 
boarding-school  at  Ellicott's  Mills  before  the  late  new 
railroad  had  quite  reached  there.  As  she  had  often 
peered  into  those  vast,  blue-bodied  wagons  to  see  what 
creatures  might  be  passengers  in  their  depths,  so  she 
took  the  first  opportunity  of  the  blue  scuttle  being  jolted 
up  by  the  mourner  to  discern  the  face  within. 

It  was  a  pretty  face,  with  a  pair  of  feeling  and  also 
mischievous  brown  eyes,  set  in  the  attitude  of  wonder  the 

13 


194  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

moment  they  observed  another  woman  in  the  room.  The 
skin  was  pale,  the  mouth  generous,  the  nose  long,  like 
Milburn's,  but  not  so  emphatic,  and  the  neck,  brow,  and 
form  of  the  face  longish,  and  with  something  fine  amid 
the  wild,  cow-like  stare  she  fixed  on  Vesta,  exclaiming, 
in  a  whisper, 

"  Lord  sakes  !  a  lady's  yer !" 

Then  she  threw  her  apron  over  the  Conestoga  bonnet 
again,  and  held  it  up  there  with  her  long  fingers,  and 
long,  plump,  weather-stained  wrists. 

Vesta  looked  on  with  the  first  symptoms  of  amuse 
ment  she  had  felt  since  the  morning  she  and  her  mother 
laughed  at  the  steeple-crown  hat,  as  they  looked  down 
from  the  windows  of  Teackle  Hall  upon  the  man  already 
her  husband.  That  morning  seemed  a  year  ago  ;  it  was 
but  yesterday. 

"Old  hats  and  bonnets,"  Vesta  thought,  "  will  be  no 
novelties  to  me  by  and  by.  This  family  of  the  Milburns 
is  full  of  them." 

Then,  addressing  the  new  arrival,  Vesta  said, 

"This  is  your  uncle,  then  ?     Where  do  you  live?" 

"  I  live  at  Nu  Ark"  answered  the  miss,  taking  clown 
the  black  apron  and  looking  from  the  depths  of  the  bon 
net,  like  a  guinea-pig  from  his  hole. 

"  If  she  had  said  *  the  Ark '  without  the  '  New,'  "  Vesta 
thought,  "it  would  have  seemed  natural." 

"  Your  uncle  has  a  high  fever,"  Vesta  said,  kindly  ;  "he 
is  not  in  danger,  we  think.  It  was  right  of  you  to  come, 
however.  Now  take  off  your  bonnet.  What  is  your 
name  ?" 

"Rhudy— I'm  Rhudy  Hullin,  ma'am." 

"  Rhoda — Rhoda  Holland,  I  think  you  say." 

"  Yes'm,  Rhudy  Hullin.  I  live  crost  the  Pookamuke, 
on  the  Oushin  side,  out  thar  by  Sinepuxin.  I  don't  live  in 
a  great  big  town  like  Princess  Anne  ;  I  live  in  Nu  Ark." 

At  this  the  girl  carefully  extricated  her  head  from  the 


UNDER   AN   OLD    BONNET.  IQ5 

Conestoga  scuttle,  looked  all  over  the  bonnet  with  pride 
and  anxiety",  and  then  carefully  laid  it  on  the  top  of  her 
uncle's  hat-box. 

"Uncle  Meshach  give  it  to  me,"  she  said,  with  a  sly  in 
clination  towards  the  sick  bed.  "Misc  Somers  made  it. 
Uncle,  he  bought  all  the  stuff;  Misc  Somers  draw'd  it. 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  it?" 

"  Never,"  said  Vesta. 

"Well,  some  folks  out  Sinepuxin  said  it  was  a  sin  and 
a  shame — sech  extravagins;  but  Misc  Somers  she  said 
Uncle  Meshach  was  rich  an'  hadn't  but  one  Rhudy.  It 
ain't  quite  as  big  as  Misc  Somers's  bonnet,  but  it's 
draw'd  mour." 

Here  Rhoda  gave  a  repetition  of  what  Vesta  had 
twice  before  observed — an  inaudible  sniffle,  and,  being 
caught  in  it,  wiped  her  nose  on  her  apron. 

"  Take  my  handkerchief,"  Vesta  said,  "  you  are  cold," 
and  passed  over  her  cambric  with  a  lace  border. 

"What's  it  fur?"  Rhoda  asked,  looking  at  it  supersti- 
tiously.  "  You  don't  wipe  your  nuse  on  it,  do  you  ?  Lord 
sakes  !  ain't  it  a  piece  of  your  neck  fixin'  ?" 

Vesta  felt  in  a  good  humor  to  see  this  weed  of  nature 
turn  the  handkerchief  over  and  hold  it  by  the  thumb  and 
ringer,  as  if  she  might  become  accountable  for  anything 
that  might  happen  to  it. 

"  I  got  two  of  these  yer,"  she  said ;  "  Misc  Somers 
made  'em  outen  a  frock.  They  ain't  got  this  starch  on 
'em  ;  they're  great  big  things.  I  always  forgit  'em.  My 
nuse  wipes  itself." 

"Now  come  near  the  fire  and  warm  your  feet,"  said 
Vesta ;  "  for  your  ride  from  the  oceanside,  this  cold  morn 
ing,  through  the  forests  of  the  Pocomoke,  must  have  chilled 
you  through.  Lay  off  your  blanket  shawl." 

Rhoda  laid  the  huge  black  and  green  shawl,  that 
reached  to  her  feet,  on  the  green  chest,  and  smoothed  it 
with  evident  pride. 


196  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Uncle  Meshach  bought  that  in  Wilminton,"  she  said; 
"  ain't  it  beautiful !  I  never  wear  it  but  when  I  come 
over  yer  or  go  to  Snow  Hill.  Snow  Hill's  sech  a  proud 
place  !" 

She  had  a  way  of  laughing,  by  merely  indenting  her 
cheeks,  without  a  sound,  just  as  she  expressed  the  sense 
of  pain ;  the  only  difference  being  in  the  beaming  of  her 
eyes;  and  Vesta  thought  it  had  something  contagious  in 
it.  She  would  laugh  broadly  and  in  silence,  as  if  she  had 
been  put  on  behavior  in  church,  and  there  had  adopted  a 
grimace  to  make  the  other  girls  laugh  and  save  herself 
the  suspicion. 

As  she  pulled  her  skirts  down  to  her  feet,  Vesta's  ob 
servation  was  confirmed  that  Rhoda  had  no  stockings  on, 
and  she  could  not  help  exclaiming, 

"  My  dear  child,  what  possessed  you  to  ride  this  Octo 
ber  morning  only  half  dressed?  You  might  catch  your 
death." 

Rhoda  caught  her  nose  on  the  half  sniffle,  raised  and 
dimpled  her  cheeks  in  a  sly  laugh,  and  cried, 

"Lord  sakes  !  you  mean  my  legs?  Why,  I  ain't  got 
but  two  pairs  of  stockings,  an'  Misc  Somers  is  a  wearin' 
one  of  'em,  and  the  ould  pair's  in  the  wash.  It's  so 
tejus  to  knit  stockings,  and  sech  fun  to  go  barefoot,  that  I 
don't  wear  'em  unless  Misc  Somers  finds  it  out.  Why, 
the  boys  can't  see  me !" 

She  grimaced  again  so  naturally  and  engagingly  that 
Vesta  had  to  laugh  quite  aloud,  and  saw  meantime  that 
the  young  woman's  oft-cobbled  shoes  covered  a  slender 
foot  a  lady  might  have  envied. 

"Now,  Rhoda,"  Vesta  said,  almost  indignantly,  "why 
did  you  not  ask  your  wealthy  uncle  for  some  good  yarn 
stockings?" 

"  Him  ?  Why,  ma'am,  he's  got  so  many  pore  kin,  if 
he  begin  to  give  'em  all  stockings,  he'd  go  barefoot  him 
self." 


UNDER    AN    OLD    BONNET.  19 7 

"  Has  he  other  nieces  like  you  ?" 

"  No."  The  girl  quietly  grimaced,  with  her  brown  eyes 
full  of 'laughter.  "There's  plenty  of  others,  but  none 
like  Rhudy  ;  the  woods  is  full  of  them  others." 

"  So  you  are  the  favorite?  Now,  what  was  your  uncle 
going  to  do  with  all  his  money?" 

"  Lord  sakes  !"  Rhoda  said  ;  "  he  was  going  to  marry 
Miss  Vesty  with  it.  That's  what  Misc  Somers  said." 

The  mocking-bird  had  been  striking  up  once  or  twice 
in  the  conversation,  and  now  pealed  his  note  loud : 

"  Vesta,  she  !  she !  she  !  she-ee-ee  !" 

A  tingle  of  that  superstition  she  had  felt  more  than 
once  already,  in  her  brief  knowledge  of  this  forest  family, 
went  through  Vesta's  veins  and  nerves,  and  she  silently 
remarked, 

"  How  little  a  young  girl  knows  of  men  around  her — 
what  satyrs  are  taking  her  image  to  their  arms !  These 
people  knew  he  loved  me,  when  I  knew  not  that  he  ever 
saw  me." 

She  addressed  the  niece  again  : 

"  Rhoda,  did  your  uncle  say  he  loved  Miss  Vesta  ?" 

"  No'm.  He  never  said  he  luved  nothing ;  but  I  heard 
Tom,  the  mocking-bird,  shout  *  Vesty,'  and  saw  a  lady's 
picture  yonder  between  grandpar  and  grandmem,  and 
told  Misc  Somers,  and  she  says, '  Your  Uncle  Meshach's 
in  luve  !'  Oh,  I  was  right  glad  of  it,  because  he  was  so 
sad  and  lonesome !" 

The  fountain  of  sympathy  burst  up  again  in  Vesta's 
heart,  and  she  felt  that  there  were  compensations  riches 
and  station  knew  not  of  in  humble  alliances  like  hers. 

"  Rhoda,"  she  said,  going  to  the  young  girl  and  put 
ting  her  hand  upon  her  soft  brown  hair,  "you  have  not 
noticed  the  new  picture  of  a  lady  hanging  up  here,  have 
you  ?" 

"  No'm,  not  yet.  Everything  is  so  quare  in  this  room 
sence  I  saw  it  last,  I  hain't  seen  nothin'  in  it  but  you. 


198  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Now  I  see  the  carpet,  an'  the  brass  andirons,  an'  the 
chiney,  an'  —  Lord  sakes !  is  that  a  picture  ?  Why,  I 
thought  it  was  you." 

"It  is,  Rhoda.     I  am  Vesta  j  I  am  your  new  aunt." 

The  girl  made  one  of  her  engaging,  dimpled,  silent 
laughs,  as  if  by  stealth  again,  changed  it  into  a  silent  cry 
by  a  revulsion  as  natural,  and  rose  to  her  feet  and  took 
Vesta  in  her  arms. 

"  I'm  so  glad,  I  will  cry  a  little,"  Rhoda  simpered,  her 
eyes  all  dewy ;  "  oh,  how  Misc  Somers  will  say, '  I  found 
it  out  first !'  " 

Tom  kept  up  a  whistling,  self-gratulating  little  cry,  as 
if  he  had  his  own  thoughts  : 

"  Sweety  !  sweety  !  sweet !     Vesty,  see  !  see  !  see  !" 

Vesta  felt  a  chain  of  happy  thoughts  arise  in  her  mind, 
which  she  expressed  as  frankly  as  the  girl  of  forest  prod 
uct  had  spoken,  that  she  might  not  retard  the  welcome 
of  these  homely  friendships  : 

"  Yes,  Rhoda,  I  am  thankful  to  find  a  social  life  open 
to  me  where  there  seemed  no  way,  and  brooks  and  play 
mates  where  everything  looked  dry.  You  come  here  like 
a  sunbeam,  God  bless  you  !  I  can  hear  you  talk,  and 
teach  you  what  little  I  know,  and  we  will  relieve  each 
other,  watching  him." 

She  felt  a  slight  modification  of  her  joy  at  this  remind 
er,  but  the  bird  seemed  to  teach  her  patience,  as  he  sug 
gested,  hopping  and  flying  in  the  air, 

"  Come  see  !  come  see  !  come  see  !" 

"  Yes,"  thought  Vesta,  "  come  and  see  !  It  is  good  coun 
sel.  I  begin  to  feel  the  breaking  of  a  new  sense, — curios 
ity  about  the  poor  and  lowly.  My  education  seems  to 
have  closed  my  observation  on  people  of  my  own  race, 
who  daily  trode  almost  upon  my  skirts,  and  whom  I  nev 
er  saw — whom  it  was  considered  respectable  not  to  see- 
while  even  my  colored  servants  enjoyed  my  whole  confi 
dence  because  they  were  my  slaves.  Yet,  in  misfortune, 


UNDER   AN   OLD   BONNET.  199 

to  these  plain  white  people  I  must  have  dropped ;  and 
then  Roxy  and  Virgie,  sold  to  some  temporary  rich  man, 
would  'have  been  above  me,  slaves  as  they  would  con 
tinue  !  How  false,  how  fatal,  both  slavery  and  proud 
riches  to  the  republicans  we  pretend  to  be  !  Compelled 
'  to  see '  at  last,  I  shall  not  close  my  eyes  nor  harden  my 
heart." 

The  maid  from  Newark  had  meantime  quietly  in 
spected  the  rag  carpet,  the  cloth  hangings,  the  fairy  rock 
er,  and  all  the  acquisitions  of  her  uncle's  abode,  and 
Vesta  again  observed  that  she  was  of  slender  and  wil 
lowy  shape  and  motion,  unaffected  in  anything,  not  for 
ward  nor  excited,  and  with  the  shrewd  look  so  near 
ready  wit  that  she  could  make  Vesta  laugh  almost  at  will. 
Vesta  showed  her  how  to  administer  cool  drink  and  the 
sponging  to  the  sufferer,  and  he  saw  them  together  with 
a  look  of  inquiry  which  the  febrile  action  soon  drove 
away.  . 

"Are  your  parents  living,  Rhocla?" 

"  No'm  ;  they're  both  dead.  My  mother  was  Uncle 
Meshach's  sister,  and  she  married  a  rich  man,  who  biled 
salt  and  had  vessels  an'  kept  tavern.  Father  Hullin  died 
of  the  pilmonary;  mar  died  next.  Misc  Somers  brought 
me  up  whar  the  tavern  used  to  be.  It  ain't  a  stand  no 
more.  Uncle  Meshach  owns  it." 

"  Is  it  a  nice  place  ?" 

"Now  it  ain't  as  nice  as  it  use  to  be,  Aunt  Vesty" — 
the  girl  glided  easily  over  what  Vesta  thought  might  be 
a  hard  word  — "  sence  the  shews  don't  stop  thar  no 
mour." 

"  The  shoes  ?    What  is  that  ?" 

"The  wax  figgers  and  glass-blowers,  and  the  strongis' 
man  in  the  world.  Did  you  ever  see  him?" 

Vesta  said,  "  No,  dear." 

"  I  saw  him,"  Rhoda  said,  with  a  compression  of  her 
mouth  and  a  gleam  of  her  eyes.  "  He  bruke  a  stone  with 


200  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

his  fist  and  Misc  Somers  kep  the  stone,  and  what  do 
you  think  it  was?" 

"  Marble  ?" 

"No'm  ;  chork  !  He  jest  washed  the  chork  over  with 
a  little  shell  or  varnish  or  something,  and,  of  course,  it 
bruke  right  easy;  so  he  wasn't  the  strongest  man  in  the 
world  at  all,  and  if  Misc  Somers  ever  see  him,  she'll  tell 
him  so." 

"  Is  it  a  little  or  a  large  house,  Rhoda  ?" 

"Oh,  it's  a  magnificins  house,  twice  as  big  as  this,  with 
the  roof  bent  like  an  elefin's  back,  an'  three  windows  in 
it — rale  dormant  windows,  that  looks  like  three  eyes  out- 
en  a  crab,  and  a  gabil  end  three  rows  of  windows  high, 
and  four  high  chimneys.  The  rope-walker  said  it  was 
fit  to  be  a  rueyal  palace.  Then  thar's  the  kitchen  an' 
colonnade  built  on  to  it.  It's  the  biggest  house,  I 
reckon,  about  Sinepuxin.  That  rope-walker's  a  mountin- 
bank." 

"  A  mountain  bank  ?  You  mean  a  mountebank — an 
impostor  ?" 

"  Yes'm," — the  mouth  shut  and  the  eyes  flashed  again. 
"  He  allowed  he'd  break  the  rupe  after  he'd  walked  on  it, 
and  he  said  it  wasn't  stretched  tight  enough,  and  went 
along  a  feeling  of  it ;  and  Misc  Somers  found  out  every 
time  he  teched  of  it  he  put  on  some  bluestone  water  or 
somethin'  else  to  rot  it,  so,  of  course,  he  bruke  it  easy. 
But  Misc  Somers's  going  to  tell  him,  if  he  comes  agin, 
he's  a  mountin-bank.  Lord  sakes  !  she  ain't  afraid." 

"  So,  since  it  has  ceased  to  be  a  tavern,  dear,  you  see 
no  more  jugglers  ?" 

"  The  last  shew  there,"  Rhoda  said,  "  was  the  cannin- 
bils  and  the  missionary.  The  missionary  had  converted 
of  'em,  and  they  didn't  eat  no  more ;  but  he  tuld  how 
they  used  to  eat  people ;  and  they  stouled  a  pony  outen 
the  stables  an'  run  to  the  Cypress  swamp,  and  thar  they 
turned  out  to  be  some  shingle  sawyers  he'd  just  a  stained 


UNDER   AN    OLD    BONNET.  2OI 

up.-  Misc  Somers  is  a-waitin'  for  him.  Lord  sakes  !  she 
don't  keer." 

"And  so  you  were  an  orphan,  brought  up  at  the  old 
roadside  stage -house  at  Newark?  And  who  is  Mrs. 
Somers  ?" 

"Misc  Somers,  she's  a  ole  aunt  of  Par  Hullin.  She 
an'  me  live  together  sence  par  and  mar  died  of  the  pil- 
monary.  Oh,  I  have  a  passel  of  beans  that  takes  me  over 
to  the  Oushin  on  Sinepuxin  beach,  outen  the  way  of  the 
skeeters,  an'  thar  we  wades  and  sails,  and  biles  salt  and 
roasts  mammynoes.  Aunt  Vesty,  I  can  cut  out  most  any 
girl  from  her  beau ;  but,  Lord  sakes !  I  ain't  found  no 
man  I  love  yet." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Vesta,  "  because  you  will  then 
be  satisfied  with  Princess  Anne.  They  say  your  uncle 
will  be  sick  here  several  weeks,  and  we  can  help  each 
other  to  make  him  well.  Now  he  is  waking." 

Milburn  opened  his  eyes  and  sighed,  and  saw  them  to 
gether,  and  Rhoda  held  back  considerately  while  the 
young  wife  approached  the  bed.  He  looked  at  her  with 
a  bewildered  doubt. 

"I  thought  they  said  you  had  gone  forever,"  he  mur 
mured. 

"No,  I  am  come  forever,  or  until  you  wish  me  gone." 

"  I  told  them  so,"  he  sighed ;  "  I  said, '  She  has  high 
principle,  though  she  can't  love  me.'  " 

"  Uncle  Meshach,  give  Auntie  time  !"  cried  Rhoda, 
with  a  quick  divination  of  something  unsettled  or  misun 
derstood.  "  Don't  you  know  your  Rhudy  ?  Even  I  was 
afraid  of  you  till  I  was  tuke  sick  and  you  thought  it  was 
the  pilmonary  and  nursed  me." 

"  You  have  a  good  niece,"  Vesta  said,  as  her  husband 
kissed  the  stranger ;  "  and  we  shall  love  each  other,  I 
hope,  and  improve  each  other." 

"Yes,  that  will  be  noble,"  he  replied.  "Teach  her 
something ;  I  have  never  had  the  time.  Oh,  I  am  very 
ill;  at  a  time  like  this,  too  !" 


2O2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Be  composed,  Mr.  Milburn,"  the  bride  said  ;  "  it  is 
only  Nature  taking  the  time  you  would  not  give  her,  and 
which  she  means  for  us  to  improve  our  almost  violent 
acquaintance.  I  shall  be  very  happy  sitting  here,  and 
wish  you  would  let  your  niece  be  with  me  ;  I  desire 
it." 

He  tried  to  smile,  though  the  strong  sweat  succeeding 
the  fever  broke  upon  him  from  his  hands  to  his  face. 

"  She  is  yours,"  he  said  ;  "  the  best  of  my  poor  kin.  Do 
not  despise  us !" 

Vesta  drew  her  arm  around  Rhoda  and  kissed  her, 
that  he  might  see  it. 

"  What  goodness !"  he  sighed,  and  the  opening  of  his 
pores,  as  it  let  the  fever  escape,  gave  him  a  feeling  of 
drowsy  relief  which  Vesta  understood. 

"  Now  let  us  turn  the  covers  under  the  edges,  Rhoda," 
she  said,  "and  put  your  blanket-shawl  over  him,  and  he 
will  get  some  natural  sleep." 

He  turned  once,  as  if  to  see  if  she  was  there,  and  closed 
his  eyes  peacefully  as  a  child. 

"  Now,  Rhoda,"  said  Vesta,  in  a  few  minutes,  "  I  hear 
papa's  carriage  at  the  door,  and,  while  he  comes  up,  I 
shall  ride  back  to  see  my  mother  and  get  a  few  things  at 
home." 

"  Who  is  your  poppy,  Aunt  Vesty  ?" 

"  Don't  you  know  him  ? — Judge  Custis,  who  lives  in 
Princess  Anne." 

"  Jedge  Custis  !  Why,  Lord  sakes  !  he  ain't  your  par, 
is  he  ?  Aunt  Vesty,  he's  one  of  my  old  beaus." 

The  Judge  brought  with  him  Reverend  William  Tilgh- 
man,  and  Vesta,  as  she  was  retiring,  introduced  Rhoda 
to  both  of  them  : 

"  This  is  Miss  Rhoda — Mr.  Milburn's  niece." 

Judge  Custis,  a  trifle  blushing,  took  both  of  Rhoda's 
hands : 

"  Ha,  my  pretty   partner   and    dancing  pupil !     How 


UNDER   AN   OLD   BONNET.  203 

are  our  friends  at  St.  Martin's  Bay  and  Sinepuxent? 
Many  a  sail  and  clam-bake  we  have  had,  Rhoda." 

"You're  a  deceiver,"  Rhoda  cried,  with  a  dimpling 
somewhere  between  glee  and  accusation.  "  I'm  goin'  to 
plosecute  you,  Jedge,  fur  not  tellin'  of  me  you  was  a  mar 
ried  man.  My  heart's  bruke." 

"  Who  could  remember  what  he  was,  Rhoda,  sitting  all 
that  evening  beside  you  at — where  was  it?" 

"The  Blohemian  glass-blowers,"  Rhoda  cried;  "the 
only  ones  that  ever  visited  the  Western  Himisfure. 
Jedge,"  with  sudden  impetuosity,  "that  little  one,  with 
the  copper  rings  in  his  years,  wasn't  a  Blohemian  at  all. 
He  lived  up  at  Cape  Hinlupen,  an'  Misc  Somers  see  him 
thar  when  she  was  a  buyin'  of  herring  thar.  She's  goin' 
to  tell  him,  when  she  catches  him  at  Nu-ark." 

The  young  rector  observed  the  flash  of  those  bright 
eyes  following  the  pleasing  dimples,  and  the  slips  of  or 
thography  seemed  to  him  never  less  culpable  coming  from 
such  lips  and  teeth. 

"William,"  said  Vesta,  "come  around  this  afternoon, 
and  let  us  have  our  usual  Sunday  reading-circle.  Mr. 
Milburn  will  be  awake  and  appreciate  it,  as  he  is  one  of 
your  most  regular  parishioners.  Rhoda,  you  can  read  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes'm.  Misc  Somers,  she's  a  good  reader.  She 
reads  the  Old  Testamins.  The  names  thar  is  mos'  too 
long  for  me,  but  I  reads  the  Psalms  an'  the  Ploverbs 
right  well." 

"  Very  well,  then,  we  will  read  verse  about,  so  that  Mr. 
Milburn  can  hear  both  our  voices  and  his  favorite  minis 
ter's,  too.  You'll  come,  papa  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  I  can.  We  have  had  a  love-feast  at  Teackle 
Hall  this  morning,  and  your  sister  from  Talbot  is  down, 
but  I  think  I  can  get  off." 

"Lord  sakes!"  Rhoda  said,  looking  at  Mr.  Tilghman 
candidly;  "you  ain't  a  minister  now?  Not  a  minister  of 
the  Gospil  ?" 


204  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Unworthily  so,  Miss  Rhoda." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  how  you  was  old  enough  to  be  con 
victed  and  learn  it  all,  unless  you  was  a  speretual  meri- 
kle.  Misc  Somers  see  one  of  'em  at  Jinkotig.  They 
called  him  the  enfant  phrenomeny.  He  exhorted  at  five 
year  old,  and  at  seven  give  his  experyins." 

"  Rare,  Miss  Rhoda,"  the  rector  said,  hardly  able  to 
keep  his  reverence  in  amusement  at  her  impetuosity. 

"  Oh,  he  made  a  wild  excitemins,  Aunt  Vesty.  The 
women  give  each  other  their  babies  to  hold  while  they 
tuk  turns  a-shouting.  '  Yer,  Becky,  hold  my  baby  while 
I  shout !'  says  one.  '  Now,  Nancy,  hold  mine  while  I 
shout !'  To  see  that  little  boy  up  thar  tellin'  of  his  expe 
ryins  was  meriklus,  an'  made  an  excitemins  like  the  high 
tides  on  Jinkotig  that  drowns  'em  out.  But,  Aunt  Vesty, 
that  little  phrenomeny  was  a  dwarf,  twenty  year  old,  an' 
Misc  Somers  found  it  out  and  told  about  it." 

"I'll  be  bound  Mrs.  Somers  knows!"  exclaimed  the 
Judge. 

"That  she  do,"  continued  Rhoda,  earnestly,  with  a 
slight  sniffle  of  a  well-modelled  nose  and  a  dimpling  that 
argued  to  Vesta  something  to  come.  "  Misc  Somers  says 
you  held  one  of  them  babies,  Jedge,  to  let  its  mother 
shout,  and  pretended  to  be  under  a  conviction ;  an'  that 
you  backslid  right  thar  and  was  a-whisperin'  to  the  other 
mother.  Lord  sakes  !  Misc  Somers  finds  it  all  out." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Judge,  finding  the  laugh  against  him, 
"I  never  did  better  electioneering  than  that  day.  By 
holding  that  baby  five  minutes  I  made  a  vote,  and  the 
mother  will  hold  it  twenty  years  before  she  will  make  a 
vote." 

"  Misc  Somers  says,  Jetfge,  you  hold  the  women  long 
er  than  thar  babies ;  but  I  told  her  you  was  in  sech  con 
viction  you  didn't  know  one  from  the  other.  '  Oh/  she 
says,  *  he's  sly  and  safe  when  he  gits  over  yer  on  the 
Worcester  side.'  Misc  Somers,  she's  dreadful  plain." 


UNDER   AN    OLD   BONNET.  205 

William  Tilghman,  during  the  continuation  of  this  col 
loquy,  looked  with  interest  on  the  two  young  ladies  : 
Vesta,'  the  elder  by  two  or  three  years,  and  richly  endowed 
with  the  lights  of  both  beauty  and  accomplishments;  the 
maid  from  the  ocean  side,  plainer,  and  with  no  ornament 
within  or  without ;  but  he  could  foresee,  under  Vesta's 
fostering,  a  graceful  woman,  with  coquetry  and  fascina 
tion  not  wholly  latent  there ;  and,  as  his  eyes  met  Rho- 
da's,  he  interpreted  the  look  that  at  a  certain  time  of  life 
almost  every  maiden  casts  on  meeting  a  young  man — "  Is 
he  single  ?"  She  shot  this  look  so  archly,  yet  so  strong, 
that  the  arrow  wounded  him  a  very  little  as  it  glanced 
off.  He  smiled,  but  the  consciousness  was  restored  a 
moment  that  he  was  a  young  man  still,  as  well  as  a 
priest.  Love,  which  had  closed  a  door  like  the  portal  of 
a  tomb  against  him,  began  to  come  forth  like  a  glow-worm 
and  wink  its  lamp  athwart  the  dark. 

"  She  must  come  to  Sunday-school,"  he  thought,  "  if 
she  stays  in  Princess  Anne.  We  will  polish  her." 

The  mocking-bird,  not  being  satisfied  with  any  lull  in 
the  conversation,  "  pearted  up,"  as  he  saw  Vesta  with 
draw,  and  cried, 

"  'Sband  !  'Sband  !  Meee — shack  !  Mee-ee-ee-shack  ! 
See  me  !  see  me !  Gents  !  gents  !  gents  !  genten  !  Sweet ! 
sweetie  !  sweetie  !  Hoo  !  hoo  !  See !  see  !  Vesty,  she ! 
Ha  !  ha !" 

He  flew  in  the  air  over  his  stirring  master,  as  if  doubt 
ing  that  all  was  well  since  the  strange  lady,  who  had 
been  so  quiet  all  the  morning,  was  gone.  '  *- 

"That  bird  almost  speaks,"  said  William  Tilghman  • 
"  I  have  spent  many  an  hour  teaching  them,  but  never 
could  make  one  talk  like  that." 

"  Maybe  you  had  too  much  to  teach  to  it,"  Rhoda  Hol 
land  said  ;  "  it  ain't  often  they  can  speak,  and  they 
mustn't  have  much  company  to  learn  well.  Uncle  Me- 
shach  haint  had  no  company  but  that  bird  for  years.  J 


206  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

reckon  the  bird  got  mad  and  lonesome,  and  jest  hooted 
words  at  him." 

"What  is  it  saying  now?"  Tilghman  asked.  "See! 
it  is  almost  convulsive  in  its  attempts  to  say  something." 

The  gray  bird,  as  impressive  as  a  poor  poet,  seemed 
nearly  in  a  state  of  epilepsy  to  bring  up  some  burden 
of  oppressive  sound,  and,  as  they  watched  it,  almost  tipsy 
with  the  intoxicant  of  speech,  fluttering,  driving,  and  strik 
ing  in  the  air,  it  suddenly  brought  out  a  note  liquid  as 
gurgling  snow  from  a  bird-cote  spout  : 

"  L-1-lo-love  !  love!  love!     Ha!  ha!     L-l-love  !" 

"  Well  done,  old  bachelor  !"  Judge  Custis  remarked,  in 
spite  of  his  fagged  face,  for  good  resolution  and  yester 
day's  unbracing  had  left  him  somewhat  limp  and  haggard 
still.  "  He  brings  out  '  love  '  as  if  he  had  made  a  vow 
against  it,  but  the  confession  had  to  come.  Many  a  monk 
would  sing  the  same  if  instinct  could  find  a  daring  word 
in  his  chorals.  These  mockers  of  Maryland  were  cele 
brated  in  the  British  magazines  a  hundred  years  ago,  and 
I  recall  some  lines  about  them." 

He  then  recited : 

"  '  His  breast  whose  plumes  a  cheerful  white  display, 
His  quivering  wings  are  dressed  in  sober  gray, 
Sure  all  the  Muses  this  their  bird  inspire, 
And  he  alone  is  equal  to  a  choir. 
Oh,  sweet  musician  !  thou  dost  far  excel 
The  soothing  song  of  pleasing  Philomel : 
Sweet  is  her  song,  but  in  few  notes  confined, 
But  thine,  thou  mimic  of  the  feathery  kind  ! 
Runs  thro'  all  notes  :  thou  only  know'st  them  all, 
At  once  the  copy  and  th'  original !'  " 

"  That's  magnificins  !"  Rhoda  exclaimed,  with  quiet 
delight ;  "  who  is  '  fellow  Mil,'  Jedge  ?" 

"  Oh,  that's  the  British  nightingale.  These  American 
mocking-birds  surpass  them  as  one  of  our  Eastern  Shore 
clippers  outsails  all  the  naval  powers  of  Europe." 

"I've  hearn  'The  British  Nightingale,'"  Rhoda  said, 


UNDER   AN   OLD   BONNET.  207 

with  a  flash  of  her  eyes  ;  "  he  was  a  blind  man  with  green 
specticklers  that  sang  at  Nu-ark,  "ome,  sweet  'ome' — 
that's  the  way  he  plonounced  it—an'  it  affected  of  him  so, 
he  had  to  drink  a  whole  tumbler  of  water,  an'  Misc  Som- 
ers,  spying  around  to  see  if  he  was  the  rale  nightingale, 
she  found  it  was  gin  in  that  glass,  and  told  about  it." 

Rhoda  made  even  the  minister  laugh,  as  she  indented 
her  cheeks  and  cast  a  sheep's  glance  at  him  and  the 
Judge.  He  marvelled  that  such  forest  English  could  be 
resented  so  little  by  his  mind,  but  he  thought, 

"  Never  mind,  she  may  have  had  no  more  lessons  than 
the  bird,  whose  difficulty  is  even  beautiful.  But  see  !  Mr. 
Milburn  is  wide  awake.  My  friend,  how  do  you  feel  ?" 

" Better,  better  !"  murmured  Milburn.  "I  cannot  lie 
here  any  more.  There  is  money,  money,  gentlemen,  de 
pendent  on  my  getting  about." 

He  started  up  with  the  greatest  resolution  and  confi 
dence,  and  fell  upon  his  head  before  he  had  left  the  cov 
erlets. 

"No,  no  !"  said  the  judge,  as  he  and  Tilghman  picked 
Milburn  up  and  arranged  him  as  before.  "  Your  will  is 
matched  this  time,  my  brave  son-in-law  !  You  are  back 
in  the  hut  you  have  consumed,  among  the  fires  thereof, 
and  the  avenging  blast  of  Nassawongo  furnace  burns  in 
your  veins  and  cools  you  in  the  mill-pond  alternately. 
Lie  there  and  repent  for  the  injury  you  have  done  a  spot 
less  one !" 

If  Meshach  heard  this  it  was  never  known,  but  the  un 
conscious  or  impulsive  utterance  strengthened  the  impres 
sion  with  Tilghman  and  Rhoda  that  Vesta's  marriage  was 
not  altogether  voluntary,  and  produced  on  both  a  feeling 
of  deeper  sympathy  and  respect  for  her. 

"Judge,"  the  young  minister  said,  "do  good  for  evil, 
if  evil  there  has  been  !  I  have  given  him  my  hand  sin 
cerely;  perhaps  you  can  relieve  his  mind  of  some  busi< 


208  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Mr.  Milburn,"  the  Judge  said,  when  he  saw  the  res 
inous  eyes  roll  towards  him  again  out  of  that  swarthy 
face,  now  pale  with  weakness,  "  I  am  out  of  a  job  now, 
and  can  work  cheap.  Let  me  do  any  errand  for  you." 

A  look  of  petulance,  followed  by  one  of  inquiry,  came 
up  from  Milburn's  eyes,  and  he  pressed  his  head  between 
his  wrists,  as  if  to  bring  back  the  blood  that  might  propel 
his  judgment.  They  heard  him  mutter, 

"  No  business  prudence — yet  plausible,  persuasive — 
might  do  it  well." 

The  Judge  spoke  now,  with  some  firmness  : 

"  Milburn,  there  is  no  use  of  your  rebelling.  Here  you 
are  and  here  you  will  lie  till  nature  does  her  restoration, 
assisted  by  this  medicine  I  have  brought  you.  You  must 
undergo  calomel,  and  this  quinine  must  set  on  its  work 
of  several  weeks  to  break  up  the  regularity  of  these 
chills.  In  the  meantime,  as  your  interests  are  also  Ves 
ta's,  and  Vesta's  are  mine,  let  me  serve  her,  if  not  you." 

The  positive  tone  influenced  the  weakened  system  of 
the  patient.  He  looked  at  all  three  of  the  observers,  and 
said  to  Tilghman,  "William,  I  might  send  you  but  for  your 
calling ;  leave  me  with  the  Judge  a  little  while,  both  you 
and  Rhoda." 

Rhoda  took  the  Conestoga  bonnet  from  the  top  of  the 
Entailed  Hat  box,  and  arrayed  herself  in  it,  to  the  rector's 
exceeding  wonder. 

"Let's  you  and  me  go  take  a  little  walk,"  she  said, 
putting  her  hand  in  his  arm  with  a  quiet  confidence  in 
which  was  a  spark  of  Meshach's  will.  "  I  ain't  afraid  of 
Princess  Anne  people,  if  they  are  proud.  Misc  Somers 
says  King  Solomons  was  no  better  than  a  lily  outen  the 
pond,  and  said  so  himself." 

The  young  man,  sincere  as  his  humility  was,  blushed 
a  little  at  the  idea  of  walking  through  his  native  town 
with  that  bonnet  at  his  side,  he  being  of  one  of  the  self- 
conscious,  high-viewing  families  of  the  old  peninsula — his 


UNDER   AN   OLD    BONNET.  20Q 

grand-uncle  the  staff-officer  of  Washington,  and  messen 
ger  from  Yorktown  to  Congress  with  the  news,  "  Corn- 
wallis  'has  fallen  ;"  but  it  was  his  chivalric  sense,  and 
not  his  piety,  which  immediately  dispelled  the  last  touch 
of  coxcombry,  when  he  felt  that  a  lady  had  requested 
him. 

"With  happiness,  Miss  Holland  ;"  and  he  did  not  feel 
one  shrinking  thought  again  as  he  ran  the  gantlet  of  the 
idle  fellows  of  the  town,  many  of  them  his  former  vagrant 
playmates.  Rhoda  was  perfectly  happy.  He  would  have 
taken  her  to  his  grandmother's,  with  whom  he  kept  house, 
but  that  aristocratic  old  dowager  might  say  something,  he 
considered,!©  destroy  Rhoda's  confidence  in  her  elegant 
appearance  and  easy  vocabulary ;  and  they  walked  past 
Teackle  Hall,  where  Vesta  saw  them,  and  opened  the 
door  and  made  them  come  in  and  eat  a  little.  Rhoda 
at  first  showed  some  uneasiness  under  this  great  pile  of 
habitation,  but  Vesta  was  so  natural  and  gracious  that 
the  shyness  wore  off,  and,  at  a  fitting  moment,  the  bride 
said  : 

"  Rhoda,  my  dear,  there  is  a  bonnet  up-stairs  I  expect 
to  wear  this  winter,  and  I  want  to  try  it  on  you,  whom  I 
think  it  will  particularly  become." 

Rhoda's  quiet  eyes  flashed  as  she  saw  the  new  article 
and  heard  Vesta  praise  it,  upon  her  head.  The  old  bon 
net  had  received  a  cruel  blow,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Somers. 

Tilghman,  too,  accused  himself  that  he  felt  a  little  re 
lieved  when  he  escorted  Rhoda  back  to  Meshach's  in  an 
other  bonnet,  and  Vesta  followed,  with  her  great  shaggy 
dog,  Turk ;  she  not  unconscious — though  serene  and 
thoughtfully  polite  to  all  she  knew — of  people  peering  at 
her  in  wonder  and  excitement  from  every  door  and  win 
dow  of  the  town.  The  news  was  working  in  every  house 
hold,  from  the  servants  in  the  kitchens  to  the  aged  peo 
ple  helped  to  their  food  with  bib  and  spoon,  that  the 
famed  daughter  of  Daniel  Custis  was  the  prize  of  the 


210  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

junk  dealer  and  usurer  in  "old  town  "  by  the  bridge,  who 
had  enslaved  a  wife  at  last. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE     DUSKY    LEVELS. 

THE  new  son-in-law,  left  alone  with  Judge  Ctistis,  asked 
to  be  propped  up  in  bed,  and  nothing  was  visible  that 
would  support  his  pillow  but  the  aged  leather  hat-box 
that  Custis,  with  a  wry  face,  brought  to  do  duty. 

"My  illness  is  unfortunate,"  he  gasped;  "not  only  to 
me,  but  to  the  new  ties  I  have  formed ;  to  the  mutual  in 
terest  my  wife  and  I  have  in  making  up  your  losses  on 
Nassawongo  furnace,  which  we  are  all  the  poorer  by  to 
that  amount ;  and  to  a  suitor  whose  cause  I  have  taken 
up.  I  have  bought  an  interest  in  a  great  lawsuit." 

"  Then  the  day  of  reckoning  of  your  enemies  has 
come,  Milburn." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  sick  man,  with  a  proud  flash  of  his 
eyes,  "  unless  I  am  no  merchant  and  you  are  no  lawyer, 
and  the  first  I  will  not  concede." 

"  Nor  I  the  second,"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  with  some 
pride  and  temper. 

"  You  were  once  a  good  lawyer,  if  visionary,"  resumed 
the  money-lender,  with  scant  ceremony.  "  Had  we  been 
able  to  respect  each  other  we  might  have  been  confeder 
ated  in  things  valuable  to  ourselves  and  to  our  time  and 
place.  But  that  is  past,  and  you  do  not  possess  my  con 
fidence  as  my  legal  agent,  my  attorney.  I  wish  you  to 
get  another  advocate  for  me." 

"  I  am  willing  to  be  useful,  even  without  your  compli 
ments,"  the  Judge  said,  remembering  his  Christian  reso 
lution.  "We  will  not  quarrel,  if  I  can  serve  you." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  hurt  your  feelings,  but  my  strength 


THE   DUSKY   LEVELS.  211 

is  not  great  enough  for  unmeaning  flattery.  This  mar 
riage  was  so  dear  to  my  heart  that  I  have  put  it  before 
a  very  large  interest  about  which  I  have  no  time  to  lose, 
and  still  am  helpless  upon  this  bed.  I  will  trust  you  to 
do  my  errand.  Go  to  that  chest,  Judge  Custis,  and  you 
will  find  a  package  of  papers  in  the  cedar  till  at  the  end. 
Bring  them  here." 

As  the  Judge  opened  the  old  chest  a  musty  smell,  as 
of  mummies  wrapped  in  herbs,  ascended  into  his  nose, 
and  he  saw  some  faded  clothes,  as  those  of  poor  people 
deceased,  male  and  female,  lying  within.  The  mocking 
bird  piped  a  noisy  warning  as  he  raised  the  lid  of  the 
till  and  saw  the  desired  papers  among  a  parcel  of  spot 
ted  and  striped  bird-eggs  : 

"  Come  see  !  come  see  !     Meshach  !  he  !  he  !  sweet !" 

"  Now  open  the  window  yonder,"  said  Meshach,  taking 
the  papers,  "  and  let  Tom  fly  out.  He  starts  my  nerves. 
Wh-oo-t,  whi-it,  Tom  !" 

The  mocking-bird,  spreading  its  wings  and  tail,  and 
striking  obstinately  towards  its  master  a  minute,  as  he 
whistled,  flew  out  of  the  window  and  settled  in  the  old 
willow  below,  and  had  a  Sunday-afternoon  concert,  call 
ing  the  passing  dogs  by  name,  whistling  to  them,  and  de 
ceiving  cats  and  chickens  with  invitations  they  familiarly 
heard,  to  eat,  to  shoo,  to  scat,  and  to  roost. 

"  If  he  regulates  his  wife  like  that  bird,"  the  Judge 
spoke  to  himself,  "she  will  fly  to  heaven  soon." 

Milburn  opened  the  papers,  counted  them,  and  handed 
them  to  his  father-in-law. 

"  The  papers  will  be  plain  to  you,  Judge  Custis,  after 
I  have  made  a  few  words  of  explanation.  You  well 
know  that  the  canal  between  the  Delaware  and  Chesa 
peake  is  finished,  and  vessels  are  now  passing  through  it 
from  bay  to  bay.  It  is  taking  one  hundred  dollars  a  day 
tolls,  and  twenty  vessels  already  go  past  between  sun 
and  sun,  though  the  size  of  the  shipping  of  the  cities  it 


212  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

connects  has  not  yet  been  adapted  to  its  proportions.  It 
has  been  a  cheap  and  quick  work,  costing  something 
above  two  millions  of  dollars,  taking  only  five  years  of 
time ;  and  yet  it  has  begun  its  mercantile  life  by  a  cheat 
upon  a  man  to  whom  it  is  indebted  as  a  promoter  and 
contractor,  and  to  whom  I  have  advanced  the  means  to 
compel  justice  and  damages." 

"  Well,  well,  Milburn  ;  I  must  pay  tribute  to  your  en 
terprise.  The  era  of  these  great  carrying  corporations 
has  barely  begun,  and  you  stake  your  little  fortune  against 
one  of  them  that  is  backed  by  the  great  city  of  Philadel 
phia  !" 

"  The  canal  passes  through  the  state  of  Delaware,  in 
which  is  three  quarters  of  its  little  length  of  only  fourteen 
miles,  and  there  a  suit  will  be  free,  to  some  extent,  from 
the  corruptions  they  might  exercise  in  Pennsylvania;  and, 
if  successful  there,  we  can  more  easily  attach  the  tolls  of 
the  canal.  I  have  no  more  faith  in  the  Legislature  of 
Delaware  than  of  any  other  state  ;  kidnappers  sit  in  its 
responsible  seats,  and  it  licenses  lotteries  to  make  prizes 
of  its  own  honor.  But  we  shall  try  our  case  before  a 
simple  jury,  which  will  be  flax  in  the  hands  of  one  lawyer 
in  that  state,  if  we  can  secure  him  ;  but  hitherto  he  has 
refused  my  contractor,  and  will  not  take  the  case." 

"Why,"  said  the  Judge,  "you  must  mean  Clayton,  the 
new  senator." 

"  That  is  the  man,"  Milburn  continued,  stopping  for 
strength  and  breath.  "  He  is  finely  educated,  I  hear,  at 
the  colleges  and  law  schools,  and  possesses  a  remarkable 
power  over  the  agricultural  and  mixed  races  of  that  small, 
state,  whom  he  thoroughly  understands  by  sympathy  and 
acquaintance.  I  heard  him  once  in  court,  at  Georgetown, 
wither  and  confound  the  confederated  kidnapping  influ 
ences  of  the  whole  peninsula,  and,  against  the  will  and 
intention  of  the  jury,  prevail  upon  their  fears  and  sensi 
bilities  to  find  a  bold  rogue  guilty  of  stealing  free  men 


THE    DUSKY    LEVELS.  213 

of  color— a  rogue  who  was  in  this  room,  unless  it  is  a  de 
lusion  of  my  fever,  this  very  day,  and  with  whom  I  fan 
cied  I  had  been  in  collision  somewhere." 

"  You  only  knocked  him  down  with  a  brick,  after  Sam 
son  had  done  it  with  his  fist,  and  then  the  fellow  came  to 
me  for  shelter,  afraid  you  would  pursue  him  at  law,  and  I 
suppose  he  did  an  errand  for  my  servants  to  this  abode." 

The  Judge  looked  around  upon  the  abode  as  if  he  had 
used  the  most  respectable  word  he  could  possibly  apply 
to  it. 

"  I  will  compromise  with  such  scoundrels  as  that  one," 
Milburn  spoke,  "  only  when  I  am  afraid  of  them.  But, 
to  conclude  my  statement ;  for  reasons  of  timidity,  or 
doubts  of  success,  or  political  ambition — something  I 
cannot  fathom — Mr.  Clayton  will  not  hearken  to  my  debt 
or,  and  I  have  not  disclosed  my  own  interest  in  the  suit. 
He  is  at  home  from  Washington,  and  an  appointment 
has  been  made  with  him  at  his  office  in  Dover  to-morrow. 
You  see  I  am  unable  to  keep  it,  and  I  have  no  one  else 
to  send,  and  information  reaches  me  that  the  canal  com 
pany,  discovering  my  money  in  the  contractor's  bank  ac 
count,  intends  to  retain  Clayton  forthwith.  If  you  set 
out  this  afternoon,  you  can  reach  Laureltown  for  bed 
time.  It  is  at  least  forty  miles  thence  to  Dover,  and  you 
might  ride  it  to-morrow  by  noon,  with  push,  and  in  that 
case  you  have  a  chance  to  beat  the  Philadelphia  emis 
sary  several  hours.  I  have  five  thousand  dollars  at  stake 
already  ;  I  believe  I  shall  get  damages  of  forty  times  five 
if  I  can  retain  that  man." 

"  I  am  ready  to  start  at  once,"  said  the  Judge,  rising 
up  ;  "  I  can  read  these  papers  on  the  way.  The  saddle 
was  my  cradle,  and  I  have  a  good  horse.  My  valise  can 
follow  me  on  the  stage  to-morrow." 

"  Unless  you  see  the  best  reasons  for  it,  my  name  is 
not  to  be  mentioned  to  any  one  as  a  party  to  this  suit ;  I 
am  not  popular  with  juries." 


214  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Then  good-bye,  Milburn,"  said  the  Judge,  but  did  not 
extend  his  hand.  "  As  you  treat  my  daughter,  may  God 
treat  you  !" 

"  Amen,"  exclaimed  the  money-lender,  as  the  Judge's 
feet  passed  over  the  door-sill  below,  and  he  sank  back  to 
the  bed,  exhausted  again. 

*  *  #  *  #  #  * 

While  the  proceedings  described  occupied  the  white 
people,  the  servants,  Roxy  and  Virgie,  in  their  clean 
Sunday  suits,  loitered  around  the  bridge  behind  the  store, 
or  strayed  a  little  way  up  the  Manokin  brook,  hearing 
the  mocking-bird  rend  his  breast  in  all  the  ventriloquy  of 
genius. 

"  Virgie,"  said  Samson  Hat,  meeting  them  under  the 
willow-tree,  "  when  I  carries  you  off  and  marries  you,  I 
s'pect  you'll  be  climbin'  up  in  my  loft,  too,  makin'  it 
com  fable  fo'  me." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  you  old,  black, 
impertinent  servant  of  darkness  !"  Virgie  said.  "  Indeed, 
when  I  look  at  a  man,  he  must  be  almost  white — not  all 
white,  though,  like  Roxy's  beau." 

"  Who's  he,  Roxy  ?"  Samson  asked. 

Roxie  blushed,  and  said  she  had  no  beau,  and  never 
wanted  one. 

"  Roxy's  beau,"  says  Virgie,  "  is  that  poor,  helpless  Mr. 
Jack  Wonnell.  He  comes  to  see  her  every  day.  He's 
devotion  itself.  Indeed,  Samson,  if  you  are  going  to 
marry-me,  and  Roxy  marry  all  those  bell-crown  hats,  we 
shall  cure  the  town  of  its  two  greatest  afflictions." 

"  Bad  ole  hats  ?"  asks  Samson. 

"Roxy'll  burn  all  the  bell-crowns  for  her  beau,  and 
I'll  bury  the  steeple-hat  and  you  that  cleans  it,  and  the 
people  will  be  so  glad  they'll  set  me  free  and  I  can  go 
North." 

"  Look  out,  Virgie  ;  I'll  put  dat  high-crown  hat  on  you 
like  Marster  Milburn  put  de  bell  on  de  buzzard.  He 


THE    DUSKY    LEVELS.  215 

went  up  to  dat  buzzard  one  day  wid  a  little  tea-bell  in  his 
hand  an'  says,  '  Buzzard,  how  clo  ye  like  music  ?'  Says 
de  buzzard,  tickled  wid  de  compliment,  *  I'm  so  larnid 
in  dat  music,  I  disdains  to  sing ;  I  criticises  de  birds  dat 
does.'  'Den/  says  Mars  Milburn,  'I  needn't  say  to  ye, 
P'ofessor  Buzzard,  dat  dis  little  bell  will  be  very  pleasin' 
to  yo'  refine  taste.'  Wid  dat  he  takes  a  little  piece  o'  wire 
an'  fastens  de  tea-bell  to  de  bird's  foot  an'  says,  *  Buzzard, 
let  me  hear  ye  play  !'  De  buzzard  flew  and  de  bell  tin 
kled,  an'  all  de  other  buzzards  hear  some'in'  like  de  cow 
bell  on  de  dead  cow  dey  picked  yisterday,  an'  dey  says, 
'  Who's  dat  a  flyin'  heah  ?  Maybe  it's  a  cow's  ghose !' 
So  dey  up,  all  scart,  an'  cross'd  de  bay ;  an'  de  buzzard 
wid  a  bell  haint  had  no  company  sence,  becoz  he  stole  a 
talent  he  didn't  have,  and  it  made  everybody  oncomfi- 
table." 

"  I've  heard  about  Meshach  belling  a  buzzard,"  said 
Roxy,  "  but  they  say  he's  got  something  on  his  foot,  too, 
like  a  hoof — a  clove  foot.  Did  you  ever  see  it,  Sam 
son  ?" 

"  'He  never  tuk  his  foot  off,"  said  the  negro,  warily, 
"  to  let  me  see  it.  Dat  bell  on  de  buzzard,  gals,  is  like 
white  beauty  in  a  colored  skin  ;  it  draws  white  men  and 
black  men,  like  quare  music  in  de  air,  but  it  makes  de 
pale  gal  lonesome.  She  can't  marry  ary  white  man  ;  she 
despises  black  ones." 

The  shrewd  lover  had  touched  a  chord  of  young  pain 
in  the  hearts  of  both  those  delicate  quadroons.  Both 
were  so  nearly  white  that  the  slight  corruption  increased 
their  beauty,  rounded  their  graceful  limbs,  plumpened 
their  willowy  figures,  gave  a  softness  like  mild  night  to 
their  expressive  eyes,  and  blackened  the  silken  tassels  of 
their  elegant  long  hair.  No  tutor  had  taught  them  how  to 
walk, — they  who  moved  on  health  like  skylarks  on  the  air. 
Faithful,  pure-minded,  modest,  natural,  they  were  still 
slaves,  and  their  place  in  matrimony,  which  nature  would 


2l6  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

have  set  among  the  worthiest — superior  in  love,  superior 
in  maternity,  superior  in  length  of  days  and  enjoyment 
— was,  by  the  freak  of  man's  caste,  as  doubtful  as  the  mer 
maid's. 

Roxy  was  a  little  the  shorter  and  fuller  of  shape,  the 
milder  and  more  pathetic  ;  in  Virgie  the  white  race  had 
left  its  leaner  lines  and  greater  unrelenting.  She  said 
to  Samson,  with  the  pique  her  reflections  inspired, 

"I  never  thought  the  first  man  to  make  love  to  me 
would  be  as  black  as  you." 

"  De  white  corn  years,"  says  Samson,  "  de  rale  sugar- 
corn,  de  blackbird  gits.  None  of  dem  white  gulls  and 
pigeons  gits  dat  corn.  A  white  feller  wouldn't  suit  you, 
Virgie." 

"Why?"  says  Roxy,  "Virgie  was  raised  among  white 
children  j  so  was  I.  We  didn't  know  any  difference  till 
we  grew  up." 

"  Dat  was  what  spiled  ye,"  Samson  said  ;  "  de  colored 
man  is  de  best  husban'.  He  ain't  thinkin'  'bout  busi 
ness  while  he  makin'  love,  like  Marster  Milburn.  The 
black  man  thinks  his  sweetheart  is  business  enough, -long 
as  she  likes  him.  He  works  fur  her,  to  love  her,  not  to 
be  makin'  a  fool  of  her,  and  put  his  own  head  full  of 
hambition,  as  dey  calls  it.  You  couldn't  git  along  wid 
one  o'  dem  pale,  mutterin'  white  men,  Virgie.  Now, 
Roxy's  white  man,  he's  most  as  keerless  as  a  nigger;  he 
kin't  do  nothin'  but  make  love,  nohow.  Dat's  what  she 
likes  him  fur." 

"  He's  as  kind  a  hearted  man  as  there  is  in  Princess 
Anne,"  Roxy  spoke  up.  "  I  never  thought  about  him  ex 
cept  as  a  friend.  I  know  I  sha'n't  look  down  on  him  be 
cause  he  likes  a  yellow  girl,  for  then  I  would  be  looking 
clown  on  myself." 

"Virgie,"  said  Samson,  "I  reckon  I'm  a  little  ole,  but 
you  kin't  fine  out  whar  it  is.  Ye  ought  to  seen  me  fetch 
dat  white  hickory  of  a  feller  in  de  eye  yisterday,  and  he 


THE    DUSKY    LEVELS.  217 

jest  outen  his  teens.  I  know  it's  a  kine  of  impedent  to 
be  a  courtin'  of  you,  Virgie,  dat's  purtier  dan  Miss  Vesty 
herself—" 

"  Nobody  can  be  as  pretty  as  Miss  Vesta,"  Virgie  cried, 
delighted  with  the  compliment;  "she's  perfection." 

"  As  I  was  gwyn  to  say,"  dryly  added  Samson,  "  I  nev 
er  just  knowed  what  I  was  a  lettin'  Marster  Milburn  keep 
my  wages  fur,  till  he  married  Miss  Vesty,  and  then  I  sot 
my  eyes  on  Miss  Vesty's  friend  an'  maid,  and  I  says, 
'  Gracious  goodness  !  dat's  de  loveliest  gal  in  de  world. 
I'll  git  my  money  and  buy  her  and  set  her  free,  and  may 
be  she'll  hab  me,  ole  as  I  am.'". 

"  She  will,  too,  Samson,  if  you  do  that,  I  believe,"  Roxy 
cried;  "see  how  she's  a-smiling  and  coloring  about  it." 

Virgie's  throat  was  sending  up  its  tremors  to  her  long- 
lashed  eyes,  and  a  wild,  speculative  something  throbbed 
in  her  slender  wrists  and  beat  in  the  little  jacket  that; was 
moulded  to  her  swelling  form  :  the  first  sight  of  freedom 
in  the  wild  doe — freedom,  and  a  mate. 

"  My  soul !"  Roxy  added,  "  if  poor  Mr.  Wonnell  could 
set  me  free,  I  think  I  might  pity  him  enough  to  be  his 
wife." 

Samson  used  his  opportunity  to  stretch  out  his  hand 
and  take  Virgie's,  while  she  indulged  the  wild  dream. 

"  Dis  han'  is  too  purty,"  he  said,  "  to  be  worn  by  a 
slave.  Let  me  make  it  free." 

She  turned  away,  but  the  negro  had  been  a  wise  lover, 
and  his  plea  pierced  home,  and  it  struck  the  Caucasian 
fatherhood  of  the  bright  quadroon. 

"  Freedom  is  mos'  all  I  got,"  the  negro  continued ; 
"  it's  wuth  everything  but  love,  Virgie.  Dat  you  got. 
Maybe  we  can  swap  'em  and  let  me  be  yo'  slave." 

"  Don't,  don't!"  pleaded  Virgie,  pulling  her  hand  very 
gently.  "  I'm  afeard  of  you ;  you  clean  the  Bad  Man's 
hat." 


2l8  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CASTE    WITHOUT   TONE. 

JUDGE  CUSTIS  was  well  out  of  town,  riding  to  the  north, 
when  the  little  reading-circle  assembled,  without  his  pat 
ronage,  over  the  old  store,  and  the  young  minister  direct 
ed  it.  In  the  warm  afternoon  the  windows  were  raised 
till  Milburn's  chill  began  to  set  in  again,  and  they  could 
hear  the  mocking-bird,  in  his  tree,  tantalizing  the  great 
shaggy  dog  Turk  by  whistling  to  him, 

"Wsht!  wsht !  Come,  sir!  come,  sir!  Sic 'em !  sic 
'em  !  wh-i-it !  sic  'em,  Turk  !  wsht !  wh-i-i-t !  Sirrah  ! 
Ha  !  ha  !" 

Turk  would  run  a  little  way,  run  back,  see  nobody, 
watch  all  the  windows  of  the  store,  and  finally  he  seemed 
to  think  the  spot  was  haunted,  or  unreliable  in  some  way; 
for  he  would  next  run  to  the  open  store  door,  and  bark, 
run  back,  and,  from  a  distance,  watch  the  hollow  dark  with 
in,  as  if  a  vague  enemy  lived  there,  mocking  his  obedient 
nature  and  keeping  his  mistress  captive.  Turk  was  a 
setter  with  mastiff  mixing,  worth  a  little  for  the  hunt  and 
more  for  the  watch,  but  as  an  ornament  and  friend  worth 
more  than  all ;  he  was  so  impartial  in  his  favors  as  to 
like  Aunt  Hominy  and  Vesta  about  equally,  and  often 
slept  in  the  kitchen  before  the  great  chimney  fire. 

"Do  we  worry  you,  Mr.  Milburn,  by  reading  here?" 
Vesta  asked. 

"  No,  my  darling.  It  is  so  kind  of  you  to  bring  music 
to  my  poor  loft." 

William  Tilghman  opened  his  Bible  at  a  place  marked 
by  a  little  ribbon-backed  bristol  card,  inscribed  in  Vesta's 
childhood  by  her  learning  fingers,  "  Watch  with  me."  He 


CASTE   WITHOUT   TONE.  219 

thought  of  his  cousin,  now  fluttering  between  her  betrayal 
to  this  Pilate  and  her  crucifixion,  and  caught  her  eyes 
looking  at  the  Bible-marker,  as  if  saying  to  him  and  to 
the  forest  maiden,  "  Watch  with  me." 

Tilghman  started  the  reading,  Vesta  followed,  and 
Rhoda  had  to  do  her  part,  also  ;  but  she  required  to  labor 
hard  to  keep  up,  as  the  chapter  was  in  the  Acts,  descrip 
tive  of  Paul's  voyage  towards  Rome,  and  had  plenty  of 
hard  words  and  geography  in  it.  At  one  verse,  Rhoda's 
reading  was  like  this  : 

"  And — when — we — had — sailed  —  slowl  -  li  —  many — 
days — and — scare — scare — skar — skurse — I  declar',  Aunt 
Vesty,  this  print  is  blombinable  ! — scace — Oh,  yes,  scace- 
ly — scarce — were — come — over — against — Ceni — Snide 
— Snid — Mr.  Tilghman,  what  is  this  crab-kine  of  word? 
Cnidus  ?  Well,  I  declar' !  a  dog  couldn't  spell  that ;  it 
looks  like  Snyder  spelled  by  his  hired  man — against 
Cnidus — the — wind — not — snuffers — no,  snuffering  (here 
Rhoda  executed  the  double  sniffle) — yes,  didn't  I  say 
snuffering?  I  mean  suffering — suffering — us — we — sailed 
— under — I  can't  spell  that  nohow ;  nobody  kin  !" 

"  '  Sailed  under  Crete,'  dear,"  assisted  Vesta. 

"  Sailed  under  —  Crety —  over  —  against  —  Sal  —  Sal — 
Sahn — oh,  yes,  psalms  !  No  :  Sal  Money." 

"  Salmone,"  explained  the  rector,  not  daring  to  look 
up  ;  " '  we  sailed  under  Crete  over  against  Salmone  ;  and, 
hardly  passing  it,  came  unto  a  place  which  is  called  the 
Fair  Havens,  nigh  whereunto  was  the  city  of  Lasea.' " 

"  Lord  sakes  !"  exclaimed  Rhoda,  putting  out  her  cres 
cent  foot,  on  which  was  Vesta's  worked  stocking,  "  did 
they  have  Fair  Havens  in  them  days  ?  Was  it  this  one 
over  yer  on  the.  Wes'n  Shu  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  Tilghman  ;  "  Fair  Havens  was  always 
a  ready  name  for  sailors  finding  a  good  port  in  trouble." 

"Thar  ain't  no  good  port  out  thar  on  the  Oushin  side 
now  but  Monroe's  Inlet,  outen  Jinkotig.  The  rest  of  'em 


220  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

gits  filled  up,  an'  kadgin's  the  on'y  way  to  kadge  through 
of  'em,  Misc  Somers  says." 

"  She  means  warping,  or  pulling  over  a  shoal  inlet  by 
a  rope  to  an  anchor,  as  the  water  lifts  the  vessel." 

"Yes,  you  know,  Mr.  Tilghman,"  Rhocla  cried,  delight 
ed  ;  "that's  kadgin' — pullin'  over  the  bar  by  the  anchor 
line.  You're  all  agroun',  can't  git  nowhar,  air  a-bumpin' 
on  the  bar,  an'  the  breakers  is  comin'  dreadful  in  your 
side  :  you'll  break  all  up  if  you  stay  thar.  So  you  git 
the  little  anchor — the  little  one  is  better  than  ary  too  big 
a  one — an'  put  it  in  the  yawl  an'  paddle  acrost  the  bar 
an'  sot  her,  an'  them  aboard  pulls  as  the  billers  lifts  ye, 
and  so  they  keep  her  headed  in,  and,  kadging,  kadging, 
bumpety-burnp,  at  las'  you  go  clar  of  the  bar  an'  come 
home  to  smooth  haven  in  Sinepuxin." 

"Yes,  my  sisters,"  appended  the  young  minister,  "we 
need  often  to  kedge  home,  to  warp  over  the  bars  of  life, 
and  Hope,  in  ever  so  little  an  anchor,  helps  a  little,  if  we 
do  not  lose  the  line.  Little  hopes  are  often  better  than 
great  ones,  for  o'er -great  hopes  swamp  little  vessels. 
Even  hope  must  be  artfully  shaped  and  skilfully  dropped 
to  take  hold  of  the  unseen  bottoms  of  opportunity.  All 
of  us  have  entertained  burdensome  hopes,  heavy  anchors, 
and  they  would  not  hold  us  against  the  breakers ;  but 
there  may  be  little  hopes,  carried  in  advance  of  us,  that 
will  draw  us  into  pleasant  sounds  and  bays." 

"We  owe  to  you,  Rhoda,  this  comforting  hope,"  said 
Vesta,  "  and,  while  you  are  with  us,  we  shall  teach  you  to 
read  more  confidently." 

Vesta  then  sang  Charles  Wesley's  hymn  : 

"  '  Jesus,  in  us  thyself  reveal ! 

The  winds  are  hushed,  the  sea  is  still, 

If  in  the  ship  Thou  art. 
Oh,  manifest  Thy  power  divine  ; 
Enter  this  sinking  church  of  Thine, 

And  dwell  in  every  heart.'  " 


CASTE   WITHOUT   TONE.  221 

The  sounds  of  her  singing  reached  the  people,  ram 
bling  curiously  around  on  Sunday  afternoon  to  see  the 
principals  in  the  surprising  marriage  they  had  but  lately 
heard  of,  and,  as  she  ended,  Mr.  Milburn  called  her,  say 
ing* 

"  It  is  time  for  you  to  leave  me  till  to-morrow." 

"  Is  that  your  desire  ?" 

"  It  is,  kind  lady.  I  have  a  servant-man,  Samson,  used 
to  all  my  work,  and  you  can  hear  of  my  condition  through 
your  slave  girls,  going  and  coming.  I  want  you  to  feel 
free  as  ever,  though  my  wife  at  last.  I  did  not  seek  you 
to  cloud  your  morning,  but  to  share  your  sunshine.  Go 
to  Teackle  Hall,  and  there  I  will  come  when  I  am  strong 
er.  At  no  time  do  I  ever  wish  you  to  sleep  in  this  old 
stable." 

"  May  I  come  and  sit  with  you  to-morrow,  sir  ?" 

"  Oh,  do  so  !     I  must  see  you  a  little  day  by  day." 

"May  I  take  Rhoda  with  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  do  it.  She  is  a  poor  girl,  but  that  is 
not  her  fault." 

Vesta  bent  and  touched  his  forehead  with  her  lips,  and, 
as  she  drew  back,  he  raised  his  cold  hand  and  put  a  piece 
of  paper  in  hers. 

"  Present  my  love  to  your  mother,"  he  said,  in  a  chill ; 
"and  return  her  the  losses  Judge  Custis  has  named  to  me 
as  her  portion  in  Nassawongo  furnace.  The  amount  is  in 
this  check,  which  I  give  you,  although  it  is  Sunday,  be 
cause  it  represents  no  business  among  any  of  us,  but  an 
act  of  peace." 

"  You  are  an  honorable  man,"  Vesta  said ;  "  I  have 
cost  you  dearly." 

"  It  is  the  bumping  of  a  few  years  on  the  bar,"  Me- 
shach  answered,  trying  to  smile  ;  "be  you  my  anchor  out 
in  calm  water,  and  I  will  try  to  draw  to  you  some  day. 
It  is  not  the  price  I  pay  that  troubles  me;  it  is  the  price 
you  are  paying.'1 


222  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  I  am  deeply  interested  in  you,''  Vesta  said ;  "  if  I 
should  say  more  than  that,  it  would  not  now  be  true." 

"Thank  you  for  that  much,"  Milburn  said;  "even  your 
pity  is  a  treasure,  and  I  thank  God  that  I  have  made  so 
much  progress.  Before  you  go,  let  my  bird  come  in,  and 
then  shut  the  window,  to  keep  the  night-hawks  and  owls 
from  finding  him." 

He  managed,  between  his  rising  paroxysms  of  the  chill, 
to  whistle  a  note  or  two,  and  Tom  flew  in  the  window  and 
fluttered  viciously  around  his  head,  as  if  to  be  revenged 
for  exile,  and  then,  leaping  on  the  old  hat-box,  set  up  a 
show  performance,  in  which  were  all  the  menagerie  of 
town  and  field,  and,  stopping  a  little  while  to  hear  the 
bird  sing  her  name  again,  Vesta  and  her  friends  with 
drew. 

Mrs.  Custis  was  found  in  her  bedroom,  much  improved 
in  spirits,  but  highly  nervous. 

"  Oh,  my  poor,  martyred,  murdered  idol !"  she  screamed, 
as  Vesta  came  in  ;  "  are  you  alive  ?  Is  the  beast  dead  ? 
Don't  tell  me  he  dares  to  live." 

"  Yes,  mamma,  here  are  his  teeth,"  Vesta  said,  when 
she  had  kissed  her  mother  warmly.  "  He  has  sent  you 
a  check  for  all  your  lost  money,  and  his  love,  and  me  to 
live  here  with  you  in  Teackle  Hall.  Liberty,  restitution, 
as  you  name  it,  and  his  affection  to  both  of  us  :  is  he  not 
a  gentleman  now  ?" 

Mrs.  Custis  eagerly  took  the  check. 

"  Do  you  believe  it  is  good,  precious?  Maybe  he  sent 
it  to  deceive  me  while  he  could  take  advantage  of  your 
gratitude.  Oh,  these  foresters  are  devils !  I  wish  I  had 
the  money  for  it." 

"  It  is  good  for  everything  he  has,  mamma.  Not  to 
pay  it  would  make  him  a  bankrupt.  He  gave  it  to  me 
almost  with  gallantry.  Indeed,  he  is  the  most  singular 
man  I  ever  knew." 

"  That  is  the  case  with  all  pirates,"  said  Mrs.  Custis ; 


CASTE  WITHOUT  TONE.  223 

"something  in  the  female  nature  attracts  us  to  lawless 
men,  who  take  what  they  want — ourselves  included.  We 
were,  I- suppose,  originally,  just  seized  and  appropriated, 
and  are  looking  out  for  the  appropriator  to  this  day. 
But  you,  Vesta,  with  the  Baltimore  blood  in  you,  do  not 
expect  to  play  the  Sabine  bride  tamely  like  that — to 
defend  your  spoiler  and  reconcile  him  to  your  breth 
ren  ?" 

"  I  was  thinking  it  was  the  Baltimore  blood  that  made 
me  appreciate  Mr.  Milburn,  mamma.  The  Custises  were 
not  traders." 

"  Pshaw !  the  Custises  were  libertines,  unless  history 
belies  them ;  they  had  else  no  popularity  in  the  scamp 
court  of  Charley-over-the-water.  He  thought  the  daugh 
ter  of  any  gentleman  in  his  following  was  made  for  his 
mistress,  and  a  large  percentage  of  the  said  damsels 
thought  he  was  right."  .^. 

"  Mr.  Milburn  is  no  Cavalier,  I  can  see  that,"  Vesta 
said ;  "  I  am  attracted  to  him  by  elements  of  such  strength 
and  simplicity  that  I  fancy  he  is  a  Puritan." 

"  Puritan  fiddlestick !"  Mrs.  Custis  said,  putting  Mil- 
burn's  check  in  her  bosom  and  pinning  it  in  there,  and 
looking  vigilantly  at  the  pin  afterwards.  "  Now,  my  great 
comfort,  my  only  McLane  !  do  not  idealize  this  forester  as 
of  any  beginning  whatsoever.  It  is  all  wrong.  Thou 
sands  of  convicts  were  exported  to  Chesapeake  Bay  from 
the  slums  of  London,  Bristol,  Glasgow,  and  other  places, 
and  propagated  here  like  the  pokeweed.  With  instincts 
of  larceny,  and,  possibly,  a  little  rebellion  in  it,  your  man 
has  robbed  this  house  of  your  person  ;  if  he  should  also 
take  your  heart,  the  shame  would  be  upon  us." 

"  Oh,  mother,  you  are  unforgiving  !" 

"  Of  course  I  am  ;  I  am  Scotch." 

"  You  have  not  one  son-in-law  but  this  who  would  give 
you  back  the  large  amount  your  husband  has  misspent — 
not  one  who  could  do  it  but  at  a  sacrifice  you  would  not 


224  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

permit.  For  you  and  papa,  to  restore  your  faith  in  each 
other,  I  married  our  stranger  creditor,  forcing  him  to  the 
altar  rather  than  he  me  ;  and  he  has  already  proved  him 
self  of  more  delicacy  than  you,  if  I  am  to  believe  you  are 
in  your  right  mind.  No,  I  am  no  McLane." 

"You  are  not,  if  you  do  not  use  their  Scotch-Irish  per 
severance  to  get  the  better  of  Meshach  Milburn.  You 
have  obtained  a  marriage  settlement  with  him,  now  have 
it  confirmed,  and  sue  out  your  divorce  before  the  Legis 
lature  !  Publicly  as  you  have  been  profaned,  ask  the 
State  of  Maryland  for  reparation.  The  McLanes,  the 
Custises,  and  all  their  connections,  from  the  Christine 
River  to  the  James,  will  storm  Annapolis,  make  your 
cause,  if  necessary,  a  political  issue,  and  the  courts  of 
this  county  will  give  you  damages  out  of  this  beast's  un 
popular  wealth." 

Vesta  looked  at  her  mother  with  astonishment. 

"What  would  become  of  my  self-respect,  my  maiden 
name,  if  I  made  that  show  of  my  private  griefs,  mother?" 

"  Why,  you  would  be  a  heroine.  Every  old  lover,  of 
whom  there  are  so  many  eligible  ones,  would  feel  his  zeal 
return.  A  romance  would  attend  your  name  wherever 
the  Baltimore  newspapers  are  taken,  and  you  would  be 
as  great  a  heroine  as  Betty  Patterson." 

"  That  disobedient  girl  ?"  Vesta,  still  in  astonishment, 
exclaimed. 

"  I  saw  her  when  the  bride  of  Jerome  Bonaparte.  She 
was  not  half  as  lovely  as  you  !  If  Jerome  had  seen  you 
— you  were  not  born,  then,  and  I  was  in  society — he 
would  never  have  looked  at  Betty.  But,  you  see,  she 
forced  a  settlement  out  of  the  Emperor,  husbanded  the 
income  of  it,  and  she  is  rich,  and  freer  to-day  than  if  she 
had  become  a  French  Bonaparte." 

"Weak  as  they  may  be  in  many  things,  I  am  a  Custis," 
Vesta  spoke,  with  pale  scorn.  "  I  would  not  drag  my  name 
through  the  tobacco-stained  lobbies  of  Annapolis  to  wear 


CASTE   WITHOUT   TONE.  225 

the  crown  of  Josephine.  The  word  I  gave,  in  pity  of  my 
parents,  to  the  man  who  is  now  my  husband,  to  become 
his  wife,  I  would  not  take  back  to  my  dying  day,  unless 
he  first  denied  his  word.  I  believe  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  honor  yet.  Mother,  you  fret  my  father  by  such  princi 
ples." 

"They  are  the  principles  of  your  uncle,  Allan  Mc- 
Lane." 

"  A  man  I  shrink  from,"  Vesta  said,  "  although  he  is 
your  brother.  His  unfeeling  respectability,  his  unchange- 
ableness,  his  want  of  every  impulse  but  hate,  his  appro 
priation  of  our  family  honor,  as  if  he  was  our  lawgiver 
and  high-sheriff,  his  secretiveness,  formal  religion,  and 
mysterious  prosperity,  I  do  not  appreciate,  much  as  I 
have  tried  to  be  charitable  to  him.  I  do  not  like  Balti 
more  as  I  do  the  Eastern  Shore ;  it  is  fierce,  hard,  and 
suspicious." 

"  You  shall  not  run  down  Baltimore  before  me,"  Mrs. 
Custis  cried,  hotly.  "  It  is  a  paradise  to  this  region  ; 
and  comparing  Meshach  Milburn  to  your  uncle  is  blas 
phemy."  V 

"  I  have  on  my  finger,  mother,  his  mother's  ring." 

"A  pretty  object  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Custis,  taking  a  peep 
at  it  and  another  at  her  check  ;  "  it  requires  a  microscope 
to  find  it.  The  next  thing  you  will  be  walking  through 
Baltimore  on  your  bridal  tour,  followed  by  a  mob  of 
small  boys,  to  see  Meshach's  old  steeple-top  hat.  Then 
I  shall  feel  for  you,  Vesta." 

The  cruel  blow  struck  home.  Vesta's  reception,  so 
unexpected,  so  acrimonious,  affected  her  with  a  sense  of 
gross  ingratitude,  and  with  a  greater  disappointment — 
she  had  failed  to  restore  joy  to  her  parents  by  her  desper 
ate  sacrifice. 

She  began  to  feel  that  she  might  have  done  wrong. 
The  broad  sight  of  her  act,  looking  back  upon  it  from 
this  momentary  revulsion,  seemed  a  frightful  flood,  like 

15 


226  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  mouth  of  one  of  the  little  Eastern  Shore  rivers  that 
expands  to  a  gulf  in  the  progress  of  a  brook.  Last  night 
she  saw  in  an  instant  the  misunderstandings  and  ruin 
she  could  prevent  by  her  ready  decision  ;  now  she  saw 
the  misunderstandings  she  never  could  correct,  the  prej 
udices  stronger  than  parental  sympathy,  the  wide  separa 
tion  her  marriage  had  effected  between  two  classes  of  her 
duty — to  think  with  her  husband's  affection  and  her  moth 
er's  interests  at  the  same  time. 

It  also  occurred  to  her  that  her  father,  the  darling  of 
her  thought,  had  seemed  slow  to  appreciate  her  marriage 
sacrifice,  and  was  testy  at  her  willingness  to  loosen  her 
heart  with  her  vestal  zone  towards  her  husband. 

The  whole  day  had  passed  with  such  relief,  such  satis 
faction,  that  she  expected  to  end  it  in  the  tranquillity  of 
Teackle  Hall,  like  some  young  eagle  returned  to  her  nest 
with  abundant  prey  for  the  old  birds  there,  worn  out  with 
storm  and  time.  In  place  of  love  and  healing  nature, 
Vesta  had  found  worldliness,  resentment,  intrigue,  and 
aspersion,  concluding  with  a  reference  to  the  one  object 
she  feared  and  shrank  from — the  hat  of  dark  entail,  the 
shadow  upon  her  future  life.  Her  eyes  filled  up,  she 
lisped  aloud, 

"  I  wish  I  had  stayed  with  my  husband !" 

"Has  he  become  so  necessary  to  you  already?"  asked 
Mrs.  Custis. 

"  He  does  appreciate  my  sacrifice,"  Vesta  said,  and  her 
low  sobs  filled  the  room.  In  a  moment  Virgie  entered, 
alert  to  her  playmate's  pains,  and  threw  her  arms  around 
her  mistress  and  kissed  her  like  a  child. 

"  Oh,  missy,"  she  spoke  to  Mrs.  Custis,  "  to  make  her 
cry  after  what  she  has  done  for  all  of  us — to  save  your 
home,  to  save  me  from  being  sold !" 

No  scruples  of  race  made  Vesta  reject  this  sympathy, 
precious  to  her  parched  breast  despite  the  quadroon 
taint  as  the  golden  sand  in  the  brooks  of  Africa,  giving 


CASTE  WITHOUT  TONE.  227 

at  once  wealth  and  cooling.  The  slave  girl's  long  white 
arms,  scarcely  less  pale  than  ivory— for  she  had  slipped 
in  at  the  sign  of  sorrow,  while  making  her  simple  toilet — 
drew  Vesta  into  her  lap  and  laid  her  head  upon  the  fair 
maiden  shoulder,  as  if  it  was  a  babe's.  On  such  a  shoul 
der,  only  a  shadow  darker,  Vesta  had  often  lain  in  in 
fancy,  and  sucked  the  milk  that  was  sweet  as  Eve's — the 
common  fount  of  white  and  black — at  the  breast  of  Vir- 
gie's  mother.  That  faithful  nurse  was  gone ;  the  wild 
plum-tree  grew  upon  her  grave ;  but  Virgie  inherited  the 
motherly  instinct  and  added  the  sisterly  sympathy,  and 
her  rich  hair,  half  unbound,  streamed  down  on  Vesta's 
temples  among  the  dark  ringlets  there,  while  she  looked 
into  her  own  spirit  for  a  word  to  check  those  tears,  and 
found  it : 

"  People  will  say  you  have  been  crying,  dear  missy. 
The  Lord  knows  you  did  right.  Don't  let  anybody  make 
you  lose  your  faith  till  your  master,  your  husband,  does 
wrong  to  you  j  he  wouldn't  like  to  have  you  cry." 

There  was  a  nervous  chord  somewhere  in  the  slave's 
throat  that  trembled  on  the  key  of  the  heroic,  and  her 
nostrils,  slightly  rounded,  her  head,  free  of  carriage  as  the 
wild  colt's,  and  a  light  from  her  soft  eyes  that  seemed  to 
be  reflected  on  their  long,  silken  lashes,  bore  out  a  spirit 
tamed  by  servitude,  which  still  could  kindle  to  everything 
that  concerned  woman  in  her  birthright. 

Vesta  kissed  Virgie,  and  ceased  to  sob ;  she  rose  and 
kissed  her  mother  also. 

"  It  was  very  wrong  in  me  to  say  what  I  did  not  wish 
to  say,  about  Uncle  Allan,  mamma.  I  hope  papa  was 
kind  to  you  to-day." 

"  Dear  me !"  Mrs.  Custis  cried  ;  "  everything  is  turned 
upside  down  by  that  bog  iron  ore.  A  new  element  has 
come  into  the  family  to  disturb  it.  Nobody  believes  any 
thing  respectable  any  more.  Your  father  is  an  infidel,  or 
a  radical,  or  something  perverse ;  you  are  defending  those 


228  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

wild  foresters !  What  will  become  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion  and  society  and  good  principles  ?" 

"  What  did  papa  say  before  he  left  home  ?" 

"He  acted  in  the  strangest  manner,  Vesta.  He  came 
right  in  and  kissed  me,  like  a  great  booby,  and  sat  down 
and  wanted  to  talk  about  our  courting  days.  I  thought 
at  first  he  was  drunk  again,  or  that  the  Methodists  had 
got  hold  of  him  and  fed  him  on  camp-meeting  straw. 
How  do  you  account  for  it  ?" 

Virgie  had  slipped  out  as  soon  as  the  talk  became  con 
fidential. 

"  He  wants  to  do  better,  dear  mamma.  Do  respond 
to  his  contrition  and  affection  !  If  we  could  all  humble 
our  hearts,  it  would  be  so  easy  to  start  life  better,  and 
turn  this  accident  to  joy  and  comfort.  I  have  found  new 
engagements  and  reliefs  already.  There  is  a  young  girl, 
Mr.  Milburn's  niece,  whom  I  shall  bring  home  this  even 
ing  and  occupy  myself  teaching  her.  She  is  an  orphan, 
without  a  mother's  knowledge,  barely  able  to  read,  but 
pretty  and  quaint." 

"  Bring  a  forester  in  here  ?"  Mrs.  Custis  exclaimed,  fair 
ly  shivering.  "  What  will  Allan  McLane's  daughters  say  ? 
Your  sister  from  Talbot  has  been  here  all  this  day,  and 
you  have  scarcely  given  her  an  hour.  Between  this  fatal 
marriage  and  your  neglect,  she  left,  with  her  husband, 
positively  pale  with  horror.  I  do  not  know  what  is  to 
follow  this  marriage.  I  have  posted  a  letter  already  to 
my  brother  Allan,  telling  him  of  your  betrayal  by  your 
father  and  this  bridegroom.  All  our  connection  will  be 
up  in  arms." 

Vesta's  heart  sank  again,  but  she  felt  no  fears  of  her 
husband's  ability  to  meet  mere  family  opposition,  secured 
by  law  and  form  in  his  rights.  She  only  feared  hostility 
might  rouse  in  him  severity  and  defiance  which  would 
neutralize  her  present  influence  upon  him,  and  change  his 
accommodating,  almost  gentle,  disposition  as  a  husband. 


CASTE    WITHOUT    TONE.  22Q 

For,  blacker  than  any  object  in  her  future  path,  she 
saw  a  little,  trivial  thing,  like  a  wild  boar  closing  her 
hitherto  adventurous  excursion  into  the  forest  where  her 
husband  grew — the  hat  that  had  covered  his  head  ! 

Her  mother's  thoughtless  mention  of  that  object  made 
it  formidable  to  her  fears  as  some  iron  mask  locked  round 
her  husband's  countenance,  making  day  hideous  and  the 
world  a  dungeon  to  all  who  must  walk  with  him. 

She  discerned  that  his  combative  spirit  would  start  to 
the  defence  of  his  hat  if  it  should  become  the  subject  of 
family  rancor,  because  no  man  forgives  an  insult  to  his 
personal  appearance  ;  and  this  article  of  wear  had  ringed 
his  brain  with  gangrene,  and  war  made  upon  it  would  be 
met  by  war,  while  Vesta  had  expected  to  induce  forget- 
fulness  of  the  rusty  old  tile,  to  charm  away  the  remem 
brance  of  it,  and  to  have  it  laid  forever  aside. 

"  I  am  not  the  daughter  of  Uncle  McLane,"  Vesta  pro 
tested.  "  I  am,  besides,  a  woman,  free  of  my  minority. 
Mr.  Milburn  is  hardly  the  man  to  submit  to  any  trespass. 
I  warn  you,  mamma,  to  put  my  uncle  at  no  disadvan 
tage  ;  for  my  husband  has  already  beaten  papa,  and  he 
will  smile  at  your  brother  when  he  knows  that  I  do  not 
support  any  of  his  pretensions." 

"  The  first  thing,"  answered  Mrs.  Custis,  stubbornly, 
"  is  to  see  that  he  pays  this  check.  Oh,  my  dear  money  !" 
— she  pressed  it  to  her  heart — "  how  delightful  it  is  to  see 
you  again.  Science,  love,  glory,  ideas  :  how  vulgar  they 
are  without  money.  With  this  check  paid,  I  think  I  shall 
never  read  a  book  again  ;  and  as  for  the  bog  ores,  why,  I 
shall  scream  if  there  is  an  iron  article  in  the  house.  Ves 
ta,  this  house,  I  believe,  is  yours  now  ?  I  had  forgotten. 
Well,  no  wonder  you  defend  the  man  who  took  your  fa 
ther's  roof  from  over  his  head  and  gave  it  to  you  !" 

"That  is  unkind,  mamma.  I  value  it  only  as  a  sure 
home  for  you  and  papa.  If  I  gave  it  to  him  it  might  be 
in  risk  again." 


230  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"But  suppose  you  continue  to  defend  this  monster  of  a 
Milburn,  he  and  you  may  require  the  whole  house.  I 
am  too  well-bred  to  be  converted  to  any  of  his  impious 
ideas.  I  am  a  Baltimorean,  and  stand  by  my  colors." 

"Let  us  speak  of  that  no  more,"  Vesta  said,  almost  in 
despair,  "  but  talk  of  dear  papa.  I  know  he  loves  you." 

"  It  is  too  late,"  Mrs.  Custis  remarked,  solemnly,  with 
another  fondling  of  her  check  ;  "  he  has  neglected  me  too 
long.  I  expect  his  attention  and  respect,  and  that  he 
shall  behave  himself;  but  no  lovey  and  no  honey  for  me 
now.  Life  has  passed  the  noon  and  the  early  afternoon 
for  him  and  me,  and  I  live  to  be  respectable,  to  appreci 
ate  my  security,  to  keep  upstarts  at  arm's-length,  to  enjoy 
my  life  in  its  appointed  circle,  taking  care  of  my  income, 
and  never — no,  never  ! — giving  any  human  being  the  op 
portunity  to  make  me  a  beggar  again." 

"Oh,  mamma,"  Vesta  said,  "think  of  Judge  Custis! 
Have  you  not  made  home  cold  to  him  by  this  formalism? 
We  must  study  men,  and  please  them  according  to  their 
tastes,  and  therein  lies  our  joy :  else  we  are  false  to  the 
companionship  God  gave  us  to  man  for.  Yield  to  your 
husband's  boyish-heartedness  ;  fly  with  him,  like  the  mate 
by  the  bird !  He  has  repented ;  welcome  him  to  your 
love  again,  and  stay  his  feet  from  truant  going,  or  he  may 
clash  down  the  precipice  this  sorrow  has  arrested  him  be 
fore,  of  everlasting  dissipation  and  the  death  of  his  noble 
soul!" 

Vesta  stood  above  her  mother,  deeply  moved,  deeply 
earnest.  Her  mother  -stole  another  look  at  the  bank 
check. 

"Well,  daughter,  I  will  be  humbugged  by  him  if  you 
desire  it,"  she  said,  but  with  slight  answering  emotion. 
"  If  I  had  my  life  to  go  over  again  I  would  marry  a  busi 
ness  man,  and  let  the  aristocracy  go.  There  is  the  sec 
ond  knock  at  the  front-door.  I  believe  I  will  dress  my 
self  and  go  down-stairs  too." 


CASTE   WITHOUT  TONE.  231 

There  were  two  ladies  in  the  parlor  when  Vesta  went 
there  — Grandmother  Tilghman  and  the  Widow  Den 
nis. 

"  Good-evening,  Vesta;"  said  the  old  lady,  who  was 
stone-blind,  but  easily  knew  Vesta's  footstep.  "  William 
thought  you  would  not  go  to  evening  service  on  account 
of  Mr.  Milburn's  illness,  so  I  came  around  to  sit  till 
church  was  over,  when  he  will  take  me  home.  But  what 
is  that  I  hear  in  this  parlor,  like  somebody  sniffling?" 

"  It's  me,  Aunt  Vesty,"  said  the  voice  of  Rhoda  Hol 
land  from  the  background. 

"This  is  Mr.  Milburn's  niece,  who  has  come  here  to 
stay  with  me,"  Vesta  said. 

"  Ah  !  then  it  is  no  Custis.  The  last  sniffle  I  heard 
was  at  the  ball  to  Lafayette  in  the  spring  of  1781.  The 
marquis  had  marched  from  Head  of  Elk  to  the  Bald  Fri 
ars'  ferry  up  the  Susquehanna  and  inland  among  the  hills 
to  Baltimore,  and  we  gave  him  a  ball  which,  at  his  request, 
was  turned  into  a  clothing-party.  He  snuffed  so  much 
that  he  kept  up  a  sniffle  all  the  evening,  like — " 

Here  Rhoda's  sniffle  was  heard  again. 

"Yes,  that's  a  good  imitation,"  said  Grandmother 
Tilghman,  "  but  I  don't  like  it." 

"Did  the  gineral  dance  at  the  ball?"  asked  Rhoda. 
"What  did  he  do  with  his  swurd?  Did  he  dance  with  it 
outen  his  scibburd?" 

"  He  danced  like  a  gentleman,"  Mrs.  Tilghman  re 
plied,  as  if  she  would  rather  not, "  and  led  me  out  in  the 
first  set.  You  danced  with  him,  Vesta,  at  the  ball  in  '24, 
forty-three  years  afterwards.  Does  he  sniffle  yet  ?" 

"  I  don't  recollect,  grand-aunt.  I  was  a  little  girl,  and 
so  much  flattered  that  I  thought  everything  he  did  was 
perfect." 

"  Ah  me  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tilghman,  pulling  the  feather 
of  her  turban  up,  and  looking  as  much  like  an  old  belle 
as  possible  at  eighty  years  of  age  ;  "you  danced  before 


232  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

Lafayette  with  my  grandson  Bill.  Bill  hardly  remembers 
Lafayette  at  all,  thinking  of  you  that  night,  so  wonderful 
in  your  girl's  charms.  I  told  him  Vesta  would  never 
marry  him,  as  he  was  too  plain  and  poor.  But  I  never 
thought  you  would  marry  that — " 

Here  Rhoda  sniffled  warningly. 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  catching  the  sniffle;  "  I 
never  thought  you  would  marry  that 7  But  Bill  is  as  dear 
a  fool  as  ever.  He  says  now  that  Meshach  Milburn  is  a 
good  man,  too.  I  never  thought  he  was  above  a — " 

Rhoda  sniffled  earnestly. 

"Precisely  that,"  exclaimed  the  old  lady;  "that  was 
my  estimate  of  the  stock.  Bill  says  he  is  a  financial  gen 
ius.  I  don't  see  what  is  to  become  of  girls  in  this  gen 
eration.  Here  is  Ellenora,  too  good  to  marry  Phcebus, 
the  sailor  man,  too  poor  to  marry  anybody  else  ;  now,  if 
Milburn  had  married  her  and  taken  her  son  Levin  into 
his  business,  it  would  have  been  reasonable  ;  but  to  take 
you  and  pervert  your  happiness,  almost  makes  me — " 

Sniffle  from  Rhoda. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  lady,  snappishly ;  "almost!  But 
I  never  did  do  it  yet." 

"Did  you  ever  see  Gineral  Washin'ton,  mem?"  Rhoda 
asked.  "  I  thought,  maybe,  you  was  old  enough.  Misc 
Somers,  she  see  him  up  yer  to  Kint  River  a-crossin'  to 
'Napolis.  He  was  a-swarin'  at  the  cappen  of  the  piriau- 
ger  and  a  dainmin'  of  the  Eas'n  Shu,  and  he  said  they 
wan't  no  good  rudes  in  Marylan'  nohow ;  that  the  Wes'n 
Shu  was  all  red  mud,  an'  the  Eas'n  Shu  yaller  mud,  an' 
the  bay  was  jus'  pizen.  Misc  Somers  say  she  don't  think 
it  was  Gineral  Washin'ton,  caze  he  cuss  so.  She  goin' 
to  find  out  when  she  kin  git  a  book  an'  somebody  to  read 
outen  it  to  her,  caze  she  dreffle  smart." 

"  Grand-aunt  Tilghman,"  Vesta  interposed  to  the  blank 
silence  of  the  room,  "knew  General  Washington  inti 
mately." 


CASTE    WITHOUT   TONE.  233 

"Do  tell  us!"  cried  Rhoda.  "You  kin  be  a  right  in- 
terestin'  ole  woman,  I  reckon,  ef  you  air  so  quar." 

In  the  midst  of  a  smile,  in  which  the  blind  old  lady 
herself  joined,  and  Mrs.  Custis  at  the  same  time  entered 
the  room,  Mrs.  Tilghman  spoke  as  follows  : 

"I  went  to  visit  Cousin  Martha  Washington  several 
years  before  the  Revolution,  at  Mount  Vernon.  I  had 
seen  her  while  she  was  the  widow  of  Cousin  Custis,  and 
we  occasionally  corresponded.  In  those  clays  we  visited 
by  vessel,  so  a  schooner  of  Robert  Morris's  father  set  me 
ashore  at  Mount  Vernon.  Colonel  Washington  was  then 
having  his  first  portrait  painted  by  Wilson  Peale,  and  he 
was  forty  years  old.  Peale  and  Washington  used  to  pitch 
the  bar,  play  quoits,  and  fox-hunt,  while  Cousin  Martha, 
who  was  only  three  months  younger  than  the  colonel, 
knitted  and  cut  out  sewing  for  her  colored  girls,  and 
heard  her  daughter,  Martha  Custis,  play  the  harpsichord. 
Poor  Martha  had  the  consumption  ;  she  was  dark  as  an 
Indian  ;  Washington  often  carried  her  along  the  piazza 
and  into  the  beautiful  woodlands  near  the  house  ;  but  she 
died,  leaving  him  all  her  money— nearly  twenty  thousand 
dollars.  We  Custises  rather  looked  down  on  Colonel 
Washington  in  those  days  ;  he  was  not  of  the  old  gentry; 
his  poor  mother  could  barely  read  and  write,  and  once, 
when  we  went  to  Fredericksburg  to  see  her,  she  was  rid 
ing  out  in  the  field  among  her  few  negroes  as  her  own 
overseer,  wearing  an  old  sun-bonnet,  and  sunburned  like  a 
forester."  • 

"Dear  me  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Custis.  "I  should  think 
she  was  a  great  impediment  to  Washington." 

"  I  reckon  that's  the  way  her  son  got  big,"  exclaimed 
Rhoda ;  "  if  his  mar  had  laid  down  in  bed  all  day,  he 
couldn't  have  killed  King  George  so  easy  with  his 
swurd." 

"  I  often  said  to  Cousin  Martha, { What  did  you  see  in 
this  big  horse  of  a  man  ?'  '  Oh/  she  replied,  '  he's  the 


234  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

best  overseer  in  Virginia.  He  looks  after  my  property 
as  no  other  man  could.'  " 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Custis,  emphatically,  "  he  was  one 
man  out  of  a  thousand." 

"  That's  the  kind  of  man  you  married,  Vesta,"  spoke 
up  Mrs.  Dennis. 

"  Her  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Custis,  "  looked  after  her  fa 
ther's  property,  I  am  sure,  for  he  got  it  all." 

"  And  returned  it  all,"  exclaimed  Vesta. 

Mrs.  Custis  remarked  that  Washington  certainly  was  a 
blue-blooded  man. 

"  Is  thar  people  with  blue  blood  comin'  outen  of  'em  ?" 
asked  Rhocla  Holland.  "  Lord  sakes  !  I  should  think  it 
would  make  'em  cold." 

"I  wonder  if  men  are  ever  great?"  asked  Vesta;  "or 
whether  it  is  not  great  occasion  and  trial  that  project 
them.  A  crisis  comes  in  our  lives,  and,  finding  what  we 
can  endure,  we  incur  greater  risks,  and  finally  delight  in 
such  adventure." 

"  That  is  the  way  with  my  poor  boy,  Levin,"  said  Mrs. 
Dennis,  quietly,  to  Vesta.  She  was  a  pretty  woman,  some 
what  past  thirty,  with  rosy  cheeks,  blue  eyes,  neat  but 
rather  poor  attire,  and  a  simple,  artless  manner,  and 
might  have  passed  for  the  sister  of  her  son. 

"Is  Levin  coming  for  you  to-night?"  Vesta  asked. 

"No,"  blushed  the  widow;  "James  Phoebus  will  see 
me  home.  Levin  has  gone  off  in  his  boat,  and  I  have 
been  worried  about  him  all  day.  Some  time,  I  am  afraid, 
he  will  go  and  never  return.  Oh,  Cousin  Vesta,  this  wait 
ing  for  a  husband  neither  alive  nor  dead  is  very  trying." 

Overhearing  the  remark,  Mrs.  Custis  remarked,  "No- 
rah,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  keep  that  faithful  fellow 
waiting  on  you,  when  you  could  give  yourself  a  good  hus 
band  and  reward  him  so  easily." 

"  I  think  you  had  better  look  out  for  old  age,"  Mrs. 
Tilghman  also  said,  "while  you  have  youth  and  good 


CASTE   WITHOUT   TONE.  235 

looks  to  obtain  the  provision.  Oden  Dennis  is  probably 
dead  ;  .if  not  dead,  he  does  not  mean  to  return,  for  I  can 
think  of  no  circumstances  in  this  age  which  would  for 
cibly  detain  a  man  from  his  wife  fifteen  years.  Even  if 
he  was  in  a  prison,  he  would  be  allowed  to  write  to  you. 
He  may  not  be  dead,  Norah,  but  he  is  not  coming  back. 
Get  a  father  for  your  son  j  you  cannot  manage  Levin." 

"  Maybe  he  has  been  stoled  by  Injins,"  exclaimed 
Rhoda,  with  great  fervor;  "thar  was  a  Injin  captive  in  a 
shew  at  Nu-ark,  that  had  been  kept  nineteen  years.  He 
forgot  his  language,  and  whooped  dreffle.  Misc  Somers 
say  he  was  an  imploster,  an'  worked  on  the  Brekwater  up 
to  Lewistown.  She's  always  lookin'  behind  the  shew  to 
find  out  somethin'."  (Slight  sniffle.) 

"  Do  get  that  girl  a  pocket-handkerchief,  and  show  her 
how  to  use  it,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tilghman,  breaking  out. 
"  Ah  !  girls,  I  have  been  a  widow  thirty  years.  I  never 
gave  up  the  expectation  of  marrying  again  till  I  lost  my 
eyesight ;  and  even  after  that,  at  sixty-five,  I  had  an  offer 
of  marriage ;  but  I  said  to  my  gallant  old  beau, '  I  will  not 
take  a  man  I  cannot  compliment  by  seeing  him  and  ad 
miring  him  every  day.  I  love  you,  but  my  blindness 
would  give  you  too  much  pain.'  In  our  quiet  towns,  all 
the  life  worth  living  is  domestic  joy.  Do  not  lose  it,  El- 
lenora ;  do  not  put  it  off  too  long !" 

"  I  could  love  Mr.  Phoebus,  plain  as  he  is,"  the  widow 
spoke,  "if  I  could  persuade  myself  that  Oden  is  dead. 
But  that  I  cannot  do.  A  real  person — spirit  or  man — is 
watching  over  me  closely.  My  very  shoes  I  wear  to 
night  came  from  that  mysterious  agent.  It  is  not  my 
son  ;  it  is  not  James  Phcebus.  No  other  stranger  would 
so  secretly  assist  me.  I  am  bound  up  in  the  fear  and 
wonder  that  it  is  my  husband." 

"  That  does  beat  conjecture,"  said  old  Mrs.  Tilghman. 
"  Have  you  no  friend  you  might  suspect?" 

"  None,"  the  widow  answered.     "  None  who  have  not 


236  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

worn  out  their  means  of  giving  long  ago.  Can  I  marry, 
with  this  ghostly  visitation  coming  so  regularly?  Should 
I  not  have  faith  in  a  husband's  living  if  I  receive  a  wife's 
care  from  an  unseen  hand?" 

"Oden  Dennis,"  Mrs.  Custis  remarked,  "was  hardly  a 
man  to  do  charity  and  not  be  seen.  He  was  rather  self- 
indulgent,  demonstrative,  and  restless.  I  cannot  think 
of  his  nocturnal  visits  in  the  body.  Besides,  he  would 
not  supply  you  in  that  way,  Norah,  if  he  meant  to  come 
back;  and  if  he  cannot  himself  come  to  you,  neither 
could  he  send." 

Not  altogether  relishing  Mrs.  Tilghman's  reproof,  Rho- 
da  was  again  heard  from,  saying  : 

"  Lord  sakes !  all  the  women  has  to  talk  about  when 
they  is  gone  is  the  men.  When  the  men  comes,  they 
talks  as  if  they  never  missed  of  'em.  Misc  Somers,  she 
never  had  no  man,  an'  she  talks  mos'  about  the  women 
that  has  got  one.  I  think  Aunt  Vesty  has  got  the  best 
man  in  Prencess  Anne.  He's  the  richest.  He's  the 
freest.  He  never  courted  no  other  gal.  He  ain't  got  no 
quar  old  women  runnin'  of  him  clown — caze  Misc  Somers 
is  dreffle  afraid  of  him  !"  This  last  remark  seemed  apol 
ogetic  and  an  after-thought. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  think  my  fortune  is  better  than  I 
deserve,"  Vesta  replied,  to  soften  the  application,  as  wine, 
tea,  and  cake  were  brought  in.  "  Now,  dear  friends,  as  I 
am  Mr.  Milburn's  wife,  let  us  all  be  Christians  this  Sun 
day  night,  and  drink  his  health  and  happy  recovery,  and 
that  he  may  never  repent  his  marriage." 

They  drank  with  some  hesitation,  except  the  bride, 
Rhoda,  and  Mrs.  Dennis.  Mrs.  Tilghman  needed  the 
wine  too  much  to  wait  long,  and  Mrs.  Custis,  finding  she 
was  observed,  took  a  sip  from  her  glass  also,  excusing 
herself  on  the  ground  of  a  recent  headache  from  drinking 
heartily. 

As  the  conversation  proceeded,  now  by  general  partic- 


CASTE   WITHOUT   TONE.  237 

ipation,  again  by  couples  apart,  and  Vesta  found  herself 
more  and  more  a  subject  of  sympathy,  with  no  little  curi 
osity  interwoven  in  it,  she  also  imagined  that  an  under 
tone  of  belief  was  abroad  that  she  had  made  a  mercenary 
marriage. 

Old  Mrs.  Tilghman — in  her  prime  a  most  caustic  belle, 
and  worldly  as  three  marriages,  all  shrewdly  contracted, 
could  make  her — seemed  determined  to  hold  that  Vesta 
had  rejected  her  grandson  for  the  money-lender  on  the 
consideration  of  wealth.  Vesta's  own  mother,  too,  who 
should  have  known  her  well,  had  twice  hinted  the  same. 
Even  the  inoffensive  Ellenora  had  accepted  that  idea,  or 
another  kin  to  it,  and  Rhoda  Holland  had  remembered 
that  her  uncle  was  the  richest  of  bridegrooms  in  Princess 
Anne.  Vesta  felt  the  injustice,  but  said  to  herself: 

"I  must  make  the  sacrifice  complete,  and  incur  any 
harsh  judgment  it  may  bear.  I  see  that  I  shall  be  driven 
for  sympathy  to  the  last  place  in  the  world  I  anticipated : 
to  my  husband's  heart.  Yes,  there  is  something  besides 
love  in  marriage  :  if  I  cannot  love  him,  he  can  under 
stand  me." 

Vesta  had  come  to  a  place  all  come  to  who  volunteer 
an  act  of  great  sacrifice — to  have  it  put  upon  a  low  mo 
tive  from  the  lower  plane  of  sacrifice  in  many  otherwise 
kind  people.  We  give  our  money  to  an  institution  of 
charity,  and  it  is  said  that  it  was  for  notoriety,  or  self- 
seeking,  or  at  the  expense  of  our  kin.  We  lead  a  forlorn 
hope  in  politics,  or  some  other  arena,  to  establish  a  cause 
or  assist  a  principle,  with  the  certain  result  of  defeat,  and 
we  are  said  to  be  jealous  or  malignant.  Perhaps  we 
make  a  book  to  illustrate  some  old  region  off  the  high 
ways  of  observation,  drawn  to  it  by  kindred  strings  or 
early  patterings,  and  the  politician  there  regards  it  as 
an  attack,  the  old  family  fossil  as  an  intrusion,  the  very 
youth  as  if  it  were  a  queer  and  gratuitous  thing  from 
such  an  outer  source.  So  we  wince  a  little,  but  feel  that 


238  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

it  was  necessary  to  be  misunderstood  to  complete  the 
sacrifice. 

The-  feeling  of  despondency  increased  after  the  little 
company  separated,  and  Vesta  went  to  her  room  and  laid 
herself  upon  her  still  maiden  bed.  She  had  said  her 
prayer  and  asked  the  approval  of  God,  but  her  nervous 
system,  under  the  tension  of  almost  two  clays'  excitement 
and  events  such  as  she  had  never  known,  was  alert  and 
could  not  fall  to  slumber.  Old  passages  of  Testament 
lore  haunted  her  soul,  such  as  :  "  Thy  desire  shall  be  to 
thy  husband,  and  he  shall  rule  over  thee ;"  "  A  man  shall 
leave  his  father  and  his  mother,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his 
wife."  She  began  to  see  that  marriage  was  not  merely 
the  solution  of  a  family  trouble,  and  the  giving  of  her 
body  as  a  hostage  for  a  pecuniary  debt,  but  that  it  was  a 
rendition  of  all  her  liberty,  even  the  liberty  of  sympathy 
and  of  sorrow,  to  the  man  to  whom  she  must  cleave. 

In  marrying  him  she  had  left  friendship,  father  and 
mother,  everything,  at  a  greater  distance  than  she  ever 
dreamed ;  and  they  resented  the  desertion  to  the  degree 
that  they  now  confounded  her  with  her  new  interest,  let 
go  their  claim  upon  her,  and  could  scarce  conceive  of  her 
except  in  the  dual  relation  of  a  woman  subject  to  her 
husband,  and  selfish  as  himself. 

"I  wonder  if  he  will  grow  weary  of  me,  too,"  she 
thought,  with  anguish,  "  after  his  possession  is  established 
and  I  shall  have  no  other  source  of  confidence?  What 
did  I  know  of  this  world  only  yesterday  ?  Then  every 
way  seemed  clear  and  open  for  me,  my  friends  abundant, 
and  love  profuse ;  to-day  I  am  in  awful  doubts,  and  yet 
I  must  not  lose  my  will  and  drift  with  every  passing  fear 
and  confusion  into  the  fickleness  which  makes  woman 
contemptible  after  she  has  given  her  hand.  I  will  never 
give  up  two  persons — my  father,  and  my  husband  !" 

As  she  turned  down  the  lamp,  it  being  nearly  midnight, 
a  short,  fierce  cry,  quickly  stifled,  as  if  some  wild  animal 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  239 

had  howled  once  in  nightmare  and  fallen  asleep  in  his 
kennel  again,  seized  on  her  ears  and  chilled  her  blood. 

Vesta  started  up  in  bed  and  listened.  It  seemed  to 
her  that  there  were  footsteps,  but  they  passed  away,  and 
she  listened  in  vain  for  any  other  sounds,  till  sleep  fell 
deep  and  dreamless  upon  her,  like  black  Lethe  winding 
through  a  desert  wedding-day. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

LONG   SEPARATIONS. 

VESTA  was  awakened  by  Roxy,  Virgie,  and  her  mother 
all  standing  around  her  bed  at  once,  exclaiming  some 
thing  unintelligible  together.  It  was  late  morning,  the 
whole  family  having  slept  long,  after  the  several  experi 
ences  of  two  such  days,  and  the  sun  was  shining  through 
the  great  trees  before  Teackle  Hall  and  burnishing  the 
windows,  so  that  Vesta  could  hardly  see. 

"The  kitchen  servants  have  run  away,"  Mrs.  Custis 
shrieked,  on  Vesta's  request  that  her  mother  only  should 
talk.  "  Old  Hominy  is  gone,  and  has  taken  all  her  herbs 
and  witcheries  with  her ;  and  all  the  young  children  bred 
in  the  kitchen,  Ned  and  Vince,  the  boys,  and  little  Phil- 
lis,  the  baby,  they,  too,  are  gone." 

"  I  heard  a  strange  cry  or  howl  last  night,  as  I  dropped 
to  sleep,"  Vesta  exclaimed,  rubbing  her  eyes. 

''Dear  missy,"  cried  Virgie,  falling  upon  the  pillow, 
"  it  was  your  poor  dog  Turk ;  his  throat  has  been  cut 
upon  the  lawn." 

"  Yes,  missy,"  Roxy  blubbered,  "  poor  Turk  lies  in  his 
blood.  There  is  nobody  to  get  breakfast  but  Virgie  and 
me.  Indeed,  we  did  not  know  about  it." 

"  That  is  not  very  likely,"  said  the  suspicious  Mrs. 
Custis. 


240  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  I  know  you  did  not,  girls,"  Vesta  said,  "you  have  too 
much  intelligence  and  principle,  I  am  sure;  nor  could 
Hominy  have  been  so  inhuman  to  my  poor  dog." 

Vesta  at  once  rose  up  and  threw  on  her  morning- 
gown. 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  have  breakfast. 
Roxy,  do  you  go  at  once  to  Mr.  Milburn's  and  bring  his 
man  Samson  here,  and  awake  Miss  Holland  to  take  Sam 
son's  place  by  her  uncle.  Tell  Samson  to  make  the  fire-, 
and  you  and  he  get  the  breakfast.  No  person  is  to  speak 
of  this  incident  of  the  kitchen  servants  leaving  us  on  any 
pretence." 

"Won't  you  give  the  alarm  the  first  thing?"  cried  Mrs. 
Custis,  not  very  well  pleased  to  see  Vesta  keep  her  tem 
per.  "  They  may  be  overtaken  before  they  get  far  away, 
daughter.  Those  four  negroes  are  worth  twelve  hundred 
dollars !" 

"  They  are  not  worth  one  dollar,  mamma,  if  they  have 
run  away  from  us ;  because  I  should  never  either  sell 
them  or  keep  them  again  if  they  had  behaved  so  treach 
erously." 

"I  say,  sell  them  and  get  the  money,"  Mrs.  Custis 
cried  ;  "  are  they  not  ours  ?" 

"  No,  mamma,  they  are  mine.  Mr.  Milburn  and  papa 
are  to  be  consulted  before  any  steps  are  taken.  Papa 
deeded  them  to  me  only  last  Saturday ;  why  should  they 
have  deserted  at  the  moment  I  had  redeemed  them  ? 
Virgie,  can  you  guess  ?" 

Virgie  hesitated,  only  a  moment. 

"  Miss  Vesty,  I  think  I  can  see  what  made  Hominy  go. 
She  was  afraid  of  Meshach  Milburn  and  his  queer  hat. 
She  believed  the  clevil  give  it  to  him.  She  thought  he 
had  bought  her  by  marrying  you,  and  was  going  to  christen 
her  to  the  Bad  Man,  or  do  something  dreadful  with  her 
and  the  little  children." 

"That's   it,  Miss  Vessy,"  plump  little   Roxy   added. 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  241 

"  Hominy  loved  the  little  children  dearly ;  she  thought 
they  was  to  become  Meshach's,  and  she  must  save 
them."  ' 

"  Poor,  superstitious  creature  !"  Vesta  exclaimed. 

"  More  misery  brought  about  by  that  fool's  hat !"  cried 
Mrs.  Custis.  "If  I  ever  lay  hands  on  it,  it  shall  end  in 
the  fire." 

"  No  wonder,"  Vesta  said,  "  that  this  poor,  ignorant 
woman  should  do  herself  such  an  injury  on  account  of 
an  article  of  dress  that  disturbs  liberal  and  enlightened 
minds !  Now  I  recollect  that  Hominy  said  something 
about  having  'got  Quaker.'  What  did  it  mean?" 

The  two  slave  girls  looked  at  each  other  significantly, 
and  Virgie  answered, 

"  Don't  the  Quakers  help  slaves  to  get  off  to  a  free 
state?  Maybe  she  meant  that." 

"Do  you  suppose  the  abolitionists  would  tamper  with 
a  poor  old  woman  like  that,  whose  liberty  would  neither 
be  a  credit  to  them  nor  a  comfort  to  her?  I  cannot 
think  so  meanly  of  them,"  Vesta  reflected.  "Besides, 
could  she  have  killed  my  dog  ?" 

"  A  gross,  ignorant,  fetich-worshipping  negro  would 
kill  a  dog,  or  a  child,  or  anything,  when  she  is  possessed 
with  a  devil,"  Mrs.  Custis  insisted. 

"  I  don't  believe  she  killed  Turk,"  Roxy  remarked,  as 
she  left  the  room.  "There  was  a  white  man  in  the 
kitchen  last  Saturday  night :  I  think  he  slept  there  ;  mas 
ter  gave  him  leave." 

"  Yes,  missy,"  Virgie  continued,  after  Roxy  had  gone 
to  obey  her  orders  ;  "he  was  a  dreadful  man,  and  looked 
at  me  so  coarse  and  familiar  that  I  have  dreamed  of  him 
since.  It  was  the  man  Mr.  Milburn  knocked  down  for 
mashing  his  hat ;  he  was  afraid  Mr.  Milburn  would  throw 
him  into  jail,  so  he  asked  master  to  hide  in  the  kitchen. 
But  Hominy  was  almost  crazy  with  fear  of  Mr.  Milburn 
before  that." 

16 


242  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Vesta  held  up  her  beautiful  arms  with  a  look  of  de< 
spair. 

"  What  has  not  that  poor  old  hat  brought  upon  every 
body?"  she  cried.  "Oh,  who  dares  contest  the  sunshine 
with  the  tailor  and  hatter?  They  are  the  despots  that 
never  will  abdicate  or  die." 

"  The  idea  of  your  father  letting  a  tramp  like  that 
sleep  in  the  kitchen  among  the  slaves  !"  cried  Mrs.  Cus- 
tis.  "What  obligation  had  he  incurred  there,  too,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  Teackle  Hall  is  become  a  cave  of 
owls  and  foxes';  it  is  time  for  me  to  leave  it.  Here  is 
my  husband  gone,  riding  fifty  miles  for  his  worst  enemy, 
leaving  us  without  a  cook  and  without  a  man's  assistance 
to  discover  where  ours  is  gone.  I  know  what  I  shall  do : 
I  will  start  this  day  for  Cambridge,  to  meet  my  brother, 
and  visit  the  Golclsboroughs  there  till  some  order  is 
brought  out  of  this  attempt  to  plant  wheat  and  tares  to 
gether." 

Vesta  stopped  a  moment  and  kissed  her  mother : 
"  That  is  just  the  thing,  dear  mother,"  she  said.  "  Let 
me  straighten  out  the  difficulties  here;  go,  and  come  back 
when  all  is  done,  and  you  can  be  yourself  again." 

"  I  shall  do  it,  Vesta.  Brother  Allan  gets  to  Cambridge 
to-morrow  afternoon ;  I  will  go  as  far  as  Salisbury  this 
day,  and  either  meet  him  on  the  road  to-morrow  or  find 
him  at  Cambridge.  Oh,  what  a  house  is  Teackle  Hall 
— full  of  male  and  female  foresters,  abolitionists,  runa 
ways,  and  radicals  !  All  made  crazy  by  the  bog  ores  and 
the  fool's  hat !" 

Descending  to  the  yard,  Vesta  found  Turk  lying  in  his 
blood,  his  mastiff  jaws  and  shaggy  sides  clotted  red,  and, 
as  it  seemed,  the  howl  in  which  he  died  still  lingering  in 
the  air.  The  Virginia  spirit  rose  in  Vesta's  eyes  : 

"  Whoever  killed  this  dog  only  wanted  the  courage  to 
kill  men  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  James  Phoebus,  look  here !" 

The  pungy  captain  had  been  abroad  for  hours,  and  the 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  243 

masts  of  his  vessel  were  just  visible  across  the  marshy 
neck  in  the  rear  of  Teackle  Hall.  He  touched  his  hat 
and  came  in. 

"  Early  mornin',  Miss  Vesty  !  Hallo  !  Turk  dead  ?  By 
smoke,  yer's  pangymonum !" 

"  He's  stabbed,  Jimmy  !"  Samson  Hat  remarked,  coin 
ing  out  of  the  kitchen  ;  "  see  whar  de  dagger  struck  him 
right  over  de  heart !  Dat  made  him  howl  and  fall  dead. 
His  froat  was  not  cut  dat  sudden  ;  it's  gashed  as  if  wid 
somethin'  blunt." 

"Right  you  are,  nigger!  The  throat -cuttin'  was  a 
make  believe  ;  the  stab  will  tell  the  tale.  But  who's  this 
yer,  lurkin'  aroun'  the  kitchen  do'  \  if  it  ain't  Jack  Won- 
nell,  I  hope  I  may  die  !  Sic !" 

With  this,  active  as  the  dog  had  been  but  yesterday, 
Jimmy  rushed  on  Jack  Wonnell,  chased  him  to  the  fence, 
and  brought  him  back  by  the  neck.  Wonnell  wore  a 
bell-crown,  and  his  hand  was  full  of  fall  blossoms.  As 
Wonnell  observed  the  dead  dog,  pretty  little  Roxy  came 
out  of  the  kitchen,  and  stood  blushing,  yet  frightened, 
to  see  him. 

"What  yo'  doin'  with  them  rosy-posies?"  Jimmy  de 
manded.  "  Who're  they  fur?  What  air  you  sneakin' 
aroun'  Teackle  Hall  fur  so  bright  of  a  mornin',  lazy  as  I 
know  you  is,  Jack  Wonnell  ?" 

"  They  are  flowers  he  brings  every  morning  for  me," 
Roxy  spoke  up,  coming  forward  with  a  pretty  simper. 

"  For  you  ?"  exclaimed  Vesta.  "  You  are  not  receiving 
the  attentions  of  white  men,  Roxy  ?" 

"  He  offered,  himself,  to  get  flowers  for  me,  so  I  might 
give  you  as  pretty  ones  as  Virgie,  missy.  I  let  him  bring 
them.  He's  a  poor,  kind  man." 

"I  jess  got  'em,  Jimmy,"  interjected  Jack  Wonnell,  with 
his  peculiar  wink  and  leer,  "  caze  Roxy's  the  belle  of 
Prencess  Anne,  and  I'm  the  bell-crown.  She's  my  Jittle 
queen,  and  I  ain't  ashamed  of  her." 


244  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Courtin'  niggers,  air  you  !"  Jimmy  exclaimed,  collar 
ing  Jack  again.  "  Now  whar  did  you  go  all  day  Sunday 
with  Levin  Dennis  and  the  nigger  buyer  ?  What  hokey- 
pokey  wair  you  up  to  ?" 

"  Mr.  Wonnell,"  Roxy  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
say,  "  take  care  you  tell  the  truth,  for  my  sake  !  Aunt 
Hominy  is  gone,  with  all  the  kitchen  children,  and  Mr. 
Phcebus  suspects  you !" 

"  Great  lightnin'  bugs  !"  Jimmy  Phcebus  cried.  "  The 
niggers  stole,  an'  the  dog  dead,  too?" 

"  I  'spect  Jedge  Custis  sold  'em,  Jimmy,"  Jack  Wonnell 
pleaded,  twisting  out  of  the  bay  captain's  hands.  "  He's 
gwyn  to  be  sold  out  by  Meshach  Milburn.  Maybe  he 
jess  s-old  'em  and  skipped." 

"Where  is  Judge  Custis,  Miss  Vesty?"  Phcebus  asked. 

"  He  has  gone  to  Delaware,  to  be  absent  several  days." 

"  Is  what  this  bell-crowned  fool  says,  true,  Miss  Vesty  ?" 

"No.  There  was  some  fear  among  the  kitchen  ser 
vants  of  being  sold ;  there  was  no  such  necessity  when 
they  ran  away,  as  it  had  been  settled." 

"It  is  unfortunate  that  your  father  is  gone.  He  has 
been  seen  with  a  negro  trader.  That  trader  and  he  dis 
appear  the  same  evening.  The  trader  lives  about  Dela 
ware,  too,  Miss  Vesty." 

Vesta's  countenance  fell,  as  she  thought  of  the  suspi 
cion  that  might  attach  to  her  father.  The  great  old  trees 
around  Teackle  Hall  seemed  moaning  together  in  the 
air,  as  if  to  say,  "  Ancestors,  this  is  strange  to  hear  !" 

"  Who  told  you,  Jack  Wonnell,"  spoke  the  bay  sailor, 
"  that  Judge  Custis  was  to  be  sold  out  ?" 

"  I  won't  tell  you,  Jimmy." 

"  I  told  him,"  Roxy  cried,  after  an  instant's  hesitation, 
while  Jimmy  Phcebus  was  grinding  the  stiff  bell-crown 
hat  down  on  WonnelPs  suffocating  muzzle.  "  I  did  think 
we  was  all  going  to  be  sold,  and  had  nobody  to  pity  me 
but  that  poor  white  man,  and  I  told  him  as  a  friend." 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  245 

"And  I  never  told  anybody  in  the  world  but  Levin 
Dennis  yisterday,"  Jack  cried  out,  when  he  was  able  to 
get  his  breath. 

"  Whar  did  you  go,  Jack,  wid  the  long  man  and  Levin 
all  day  yisterday  ?"  Samson  asked. 

"  Yes,  whar  was  you  ?"  Jimmy  Phoebus  shouted,  with 
one  of  his  Greek  paroxysms  of  temper  on,  as  his  dark 
skin  and  black;cherry  eyes  flamed  volcanic.  "  Whar  did 
you  leave  Ellenora's  boy  and  that  infernal  soul-buyer? 
Speak,  or  I'll  throttle  you  like  this  dog !" 

"  You  let  him  alone,  sir  !"  little  Roxy  cried,  hotly,  "  he 
won't  deceive  anybody ;  he's  going  to  tell  all  he  knows." 

"  Let  go,  Jimmy,"  Samson  said  ;  "  don't  you  see  Miss 
Vesty  heah  ?" 

"Don't  scare  the  man,  Mr.  Phoebus,"  Vesta  added; 
"  but  I  command  him  to  tell  all  that  he  knows,  or  papa 
shall  commit  him  to  jail." 

Jack  Wonnell,  taking  his  place  some  steps  away  from 
Phoebus,  and  wiping  his  eyes  on  his  sleeve,  whimpering 
a  few  minutes,  to  Roxy's  great  agitation,  finally  told  his 
tale. 

"  I'm  sorry,  Jimmy,  you  accused  me  before  this  beau 
tiful  lady  an'  my  purty  leetle  Roxy — bless  her  soul ! — of 
stealing  Jedge  Custis's  niggers.  Thair's  on'y  one  I  ever 
looked  sheep's  eyes  at,  an'  she's  a-standin'  here,  listenin' 
to  every  true  word  I  says.  I'm  pore  trash,  an'  I  reckon 
the  jail's  as  good  as  the  pore-house  for  me,  ef  they  want 
to  send  me  thair,  fur  it's  in  town,  and  Roxy  kin  come  an' 
look  through  the  bars  at  me  every  day." 

Roxy  was  so  much  affected  that  she  threw  her  apron 
up  to  her  face,  and  Vesta  and  Phoebus  had  to  smile, 
while  Samson  Hat,  looking  indulgently  on,  exclaimed, 

"  Dar's  love  all  froo  de  woods.  Doves  an'  crows  can't 
help  it.  It's  deeper  down  clan  fedders  an' claws." 

"That  nigger  trader,"  continued  Jack  Wonnell,  bell- 
crown  in  hand,  "hired  me  an'  Levin  to  take  him  a  tar- 


246  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

rapinin'.  He  had  a  bag  of  gold  that  big  " — measuring 
with  his  hand  in  the  crown  of  the  hat — "  an'  he  give 
Levin  some  of  it,  an'  I  took  it  to  Levin's  mother  las'  night, 
an'  told  her  Levin  wouldn't  be  back  fur  a  week,  maybe. 
I  thought  Mr.  Johnson  was  gwyn  to  give  me  some  gold 
too,  so  I  could  buy  Roxy,  but  yer's  all  he  give  me. 
Everybody  disappints  me,  Jimmy  !" 

Jack  Wonnell  showed  an  old  silver  fUpenny  bit,  and 
his  countenance  was  so  lugubrious  that  the  sailor  ex 
claimed, 

"Jack,  he  paid  you  too  well  for  all  the  sense  you  got. 
Now,  whar  has  Levin  gone  with  the  Ellenora  Dennis  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Jimmy.  He  made  Levin  sail  her  up  to 
the  landin'  down  yer  below  town,  whair  Levin's  father, 
Cap'n  Dennis,  launched  the  Idy  fifteen  year  ago.  I  left 
Levin  thar,  and  he  said,  'Jack,  I'm  goin'  off  with  the  nig 
ger  trader  to  git  some  of  his  money  fur  mother  !'  " 

"  Poor  miserable  boy!"  Phoebus  exclaimed ;  "he's  led 
off  easy  as  his  pore  daddy.  The  man  he's  gone  with, 
Miss  Vesty,  is  black  as  hell.  Joe  Johnson  is  known  to 
every  thief  on  the  bay,  every  gypsy  on  the  shore.  He 
steals  free  niggers  when  he  can't  buy  slave  ones,  outen 
Delaware  state.  He  sometimes  runs  away  Maryland 
slaves  to  oblige  their  hypocritical  masters  that  can't  sell 
'em  publicly,  an'  Johnson  and  the  bereaved  owner  di 
vides  the  price.  Go  in  the  house,  yaller  gal !"  Jimmy 
Phoebus  turned  to  Roxy,  who  obeyed  instantly.  "  Jack 
Wonnell,  you  go  too  ;  I'm  done  with  you  !"  (Jack  slipped 
around  the  house  and  made  his  peace  with  Roxy  before 
he  started.)  "  You  needn't  to  go,  Samson  ;  I  know  you're 
true  as  steel !" 

"  I  must  go  an'  git  de  breakfast,  Jimmy,"  the  negro 
said,  going  in. 

"  Now,  Miss  Vesty  " — Phoebus  turned  to  the  mistress 
of  Teackle  Hall — "  Joe  Johnson  has  got  old  Hominy  and 
the  little  niggers,  by  smoke  !  That  part  of  this  hokey 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  247 

pokey  is  purty  sure  !  Did  he  steal  them  an'  decoy  them, 
or  wair  they  sold  to  him  by  Judge  Custis  or  by  Meshach 
Milburn  ?" 

"  By  neither,  I  will  risk  my  life.  Mr.  Milburn  was 
taken  to  his  bed  Saturday  evening,  and  on  Sunday  fa 
ther  went  to  Delaware  on  legal  business  for  my  hus 
band." 

"That  is  Meshach  Milburn,  I  hear,"  the  bay  sailor  re 
marked,  with  a  penetrating  look.  "Shall  I. go  and  see 
him  on  this  nigger  business  ?" 

"  No,"  Vesta  replied  ;  "  he  is  too  sick,  and  it  is  a  deli 
cate,  subject  to  name  to  him.  My  girls,  Virgie  and  Roxy, 
think  old  Hominy  ran  away  from  a  superstitious  fear 
she  had  of  Mr.  Milburn,  who  had  become  the  master  of 
Teackle  Hall  by  marriage." 

"Yes,  by  smoke  !  every  nigger  in  town,  big  and  little, 
is  afraid  of  Milburn's  hat." 

"  He  has  no  ownership  in  those  servants,  nor  has  my 
father  now,  I  will  tell  you,  James — relying  on  your  pru 
dence — that  Hominy  belonged  to  me,  and  so  did  those 
three  children,  having  passed  from  my  father  to  my  hus 
band  and  thence  to  me  and  back  to  my  father,  and  from 
him  to  me  again  in  the  very  hour  of  my  marriage.  I  fear 
they  have  been  persuaded  away,  to  be  abused  and  sold 
out  of  Maryland." 

Jirnmy  Phcebus  looked  up  at  the  sighing  trees  and 
over  the  wide  facade  of  Teackle  Hall,  and  exclaimed 
"  by  smoke !"  several  times  before  he  made  his  conclu 
sions. 

"Miss  Vesty,"  he  said,  finally,  "send  for  your  father  to 
come  home  immediately.  People  will  not  understand 
how  Joe  Johnson,  outlaw  as  he  is,  dared  to  rob  a  Mary 
land  judge  of  his  house  servants,  Johnson  himself  bein' 
a  Marylander,  unless  they  had  some  understanding.  Your 
sudden  marriage,  an'  your  pappy's  embarrassments,  will 
be  put  together,  by  smoke  !  an'  thar  is  some  blunt  enough 


248  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

to  say  that 'when  Jedge  Custis  is  hard  up,  he'll  git  money 
anyhow !" 

The  charge,  made  with  an  honest  man's  want  of  skill, 
battered  down  all  explanations. 

"  I  confess  it,"  said  Vesta.  "  Papa's  going  away  on  a 
Sunday,  and  these  people  disappearing  on  Sunday  night, 
might  excite  idle  comment.  It  might  be  said  that  he  en 
deavored  to  sell  some  of  his  property  before  his  creditor 
could  seize.it." 

"  I  have  seen  you  about  yer  since  you  was  a  baby, 
Vesty,  an'  Ellenora  says  you're  better  game  an' heart  than 
these  'ristocrats,  fur  who  I  never  keered !  That's  why 
I  take  the  liberty  of  calling  you  Vesty.  Now,  let  me  tell 
you  about  your  niggers.  If  they  was  a-gwyn  to  freedom 
in  a  white  man's  keer,  I  wouldn't  stop  'em  to  be  cap'n  of 
a  man-of-war.  But  Joe  Johnson,  supposin'  that  he's  got 
of 'em,  is  a  demon.  Do  you  see  the  stab  on  that  clog? 
well,  it's  done  with  one  of  the  bagnet  pistols  them  kid 
nappers  carries — hoss  pistols,  with  a  spring  dagger  on  the 
muzzle  ;  and,  when  they  come  to  close  quarters,  they  stab 
with  'em.  Johnson  killed  your  dog  ;  I  know  his  marks. 
He  sails  this  whole  bay,  and  maybe  he's  run  them  nig 
gers  to  Washin'ton,  or  to  Norfolk,  an'  sold  'em  south.  It 
ain'  no  use  to  foller  him  to  either  of  them  places,  if  he 
has,  with  the  wind  an'  start  he's  got,  and  your  pappy's  in 
fluence  lost  to  us  by  his  absence.  But  thar  is  one  chance 
to  overhaul  the  thief." 

"  What  is  that,  James?"  said  Vesta,  earnestly.  "  I  do 
want  to  save  those  poor  people  from  the  abuse  of  a  man 
who  could  kill  my  poor,  fond  dog." 

"  Joe  Johnson  keeps  a  hell-trap — a  reg'lar  Pangymo- 
num,  up  near  the  head  of  Nanticoke  River.  It's  the 
headquarters  of  his  band,  and  a  black  band  they  air. 
He  has  had  good  wind  " — the  pungy  captain  looked  up 
and  noted  the  breeze — "  to  get  him  out  of  Manokin  last 
night,  and  into  the  Sound  j  but  he  must  beat  up  the  Nan- 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  249 

ticoke  all  day,  and  we  kin  head  him  off  by  land,  if  that's 
his  destination,  before  he  gits  to  Vienna,  an'  make  him 
show  his  cargo.  Then,  with  a  messenger  to  follow  Jeclge 
Custis  an'  turn  him  back,  we  can  swear  these  niggers  on 
Johnson — and,  you  see,  we  can't  make  no  such  oath  till 
we  git  the  evidence — an'  then,  by  smoke  !  we'll  bring  ole 
Hominy  an'  the  pore  chillen  back  to  Teackle  Hall." 

"  Here  is  one  you  love  to  serve,  James,"  said  Vesta,  as 
the  Widow  Dennis  came  in  the  gate. 

"  I  came  to  meet  you  at  the  landing,  James,"  said  the 
blue-eyed,  sweet-voiced  widow,  with  the  timid  step  and 
ready  blush.  "Levin  is  gone  for  a  week  with  a  negro 
trader ;  he  sends  me  so  much  money,  I  fear  he  is  under 
an  unusual  temptation,  and  Wonnell  says  the  trader  is 
giving  him  liquor.  What  shall  I  do  ?" 

"  Make  me  his  father,  Ellenory,  and  that'll  give  me  an 
interest  over  him,  and  you  will  command  me.  You  want 
a  first  mate  in  your  crew.  Levin  kin  make  a  fool  of  me 
if  I  go  chase  him  now,  and  I  can't  measure  money  with 
a  nigger  trader,  by  smoke  !" 

"  Oh  !  James,"  the  widow  spoke,  "  you  know  my  heart 
would  be  yours  if  I  could  control  it.  When  my  way  is 
clear  you  will  have  but  to  ask.  Do  go  and  find  Levin !" 

"  Norah,  we  suspect  the  same  trader  of  having  taken 
off  Hominy,  our  cook,  and  the  kitchen  children,  in  Levin's 
boat." 

The  widow  listened  to  Vesta,  and  burst  into  tears. 
"  He  will  be  accessory  to  the  crime,"  she  sobbed.  "  Oh, 
this  is  what  I  have  ever  feared.  James  Phoebus,  you 
have  always  had  the  best  influence  over  Levin.  If  you 
love  me,  arrest  him  before  the  law  takes  cognizance  of 
this  wild  deed.  Where  has  he  gone  ?" 

Virgie  appeared  upon  the  lawn  to  say  that  Mrs.  Custis 
wanted  to  know  who  should  drive  her  as  far  as  Salisbury, 
where  she  could  get  a  slave  of  her  son-in-law  to  continue 
on  with  her  to  Cambridge. 


250  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"I  have  been  thinking  all  the  morning  where  I  can 
find  a  reliable  man  to  go  and  bring  back  papa,"  Vesta 
answered;  "there  are  a  few  slaves  at  the  Furnace,  but 
time  is  precious." 

"  Here  is  Samson,"  Virgie  said,  "  and  he  has  got  a  mule 
he  rides  all  over  the  county.  Let  him  go." 

"  Go  whar,  my  love  ?"  asked  Samson. 

"To  Dover,  in  Delaware,"  Vesta  answered.  "You 
can  ride  to  Laurel  by  dark,  Samson,  and  get  to  Dover  to 
morrow  afternoon." 

"And  I  can  ride  with  him  as  far  as  Salisbury,"  Jimmy 
Phcebus  said,  "  and  get  out  to  the  Nanticoke  some  way ; 
fur  I  see  Ellenora  will  cry  till  I  go." 

"  You  can  do  better  than  that,  James,"  Vesta  said,  rap 
idly  thinking.  "Samson  can  take  you  to  Spring  Hill 
Church  or  Barren  Creek  Springs,  by  a  little  deviation, 
and  at  the  Springs  you  will  be  only  three  miles  from  the 
Nanticoke.  Even  mamma  might  go  on  with  the  carnage 
to-night  as  far  as  the  Springs,  or  to  Vienna." 

"  If  two  of  them  are  going,"  Virgie  exclaimed,  "  one  can 
drive  Missy  Custis  and  the  other  ride  the  mule." 

Samson  shook  his  head. 

"  Dey  say  a  free  nigger  man  gits  Cotched  up  in  dat  ar 
Delawaw  state.  Merrylin's  good  enough  fur  me.  I  likes 
de  Merrylin  light  gals  de  best,"  looking  at  Virgie. 

"  Go  now,  Samson,  to  oblige  Miss  Vesty,"  Virgie  said, 
"  and  I'll  try  to  love  you  a  little,  black  and  bad  as  you  are." 

"I'se  afraid  of  Delawaw  state,"  Samson  repeated, 
laughing  slowly.  "  Joe  Johnson,  dat  I  put  dat  head  on, 
will  git  me  whar  he  lives  if  I  go  dar,  mebbe." 

u  No,"  Phcebus  put  in,  "  I'll  be  a  lookin'  after  him  on 
the  banks  of  the  Nanticoke,  Samson,  while  you  keep  right 
in  the  high-road  from  Laurel  to  Georgetown,  and  on  to 
Dover.  Joe  Johnson's  been  whipped  at  the  post,  and 
banished  from  Delaware  for  life,  and  dussn't  go  thar  no 
more." 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  251 

"  If  you  go,  Samson,"  little  Roxy  put  in,  having  re 
appeared,  "  Virgie'll  feel  complimented.  Anything  that 
obliges  Miss  Vesty  counts  with  Virgie." 

"If  you  are  a  free  man,"  Virgie  herself  exclaimed,  her 
slight,  nervous,  willowy  figure  expanding,  "  are  you  afraid 
to  go  into  a  freer  state  than  Maryland  ?  If  I  was  free  I 
would  want  to  go  to  the  freest  state  of  all.  Behave  like 
a  free  man,  Samson  Hat,  or  what  is  freedom  worth  to 
you?" 

"  It's  wuth  so  much,  pretty  gal,  dat  I  don't  want  to  be 
a-losin'  of  it,  mind,  I  tell  you,  'sept  to  my  wife  when  she'll 
hab  me." 

Samson  watched  the  quadroon's  delicate,  high -bred 
features,  her  skin  almost  paler  than  her  young  mistress's, 
her  figure  like  the  dove's  after  a  hard  winter  —  the  more 
active  that  a  little  meagre — her  head  small,  and  its  tresses 
soft  as  the  crow  blackbird's  plumage,  and  the  loyalty  that 
lay  in  her  large  eyes,  like  strong  passion,  for  her  mistress, 
was  turned  to  pride,  and  nearly  scorn,  when  they  listened 
to  him. 

"  A  slave,  Miss  Vesty  says  " — Virgie  spoke  with  almost 
fierceness — "is  not  one  that's  owned,  half  as  much  as  one 
that  sells  himself — to  hard  drink,  or  to  selfishness,  or  to  fear. 
You're  not  a  free  man,  Samson,  if  you're  afraid,  and  are 
like  these  low  slave  negroes  who  dare  nothing  if  they  can 
only  get  a  little  low  pleasure.  All  that  can  make  a  black 
man  white,  in  my  eyes,  is  a  white  man's  enterprise." 

Vesta  felt,  as  she  often  had  done,  the  capable  soul  of 
her  servant,  and  did  not  resent  her  spirit  as  unbecoming 
a  slave,  but  rather  felt  responsive  chords  in  her  own  nat 
ure,  as  if,  indeed,  Virgie  was  the  more  imperious  of  the 
two.  Coining  now  into  full  womanhood,  her  race  ele 
ments  finding  their  composition,  her  character  unre 
strained  by  any  one  in  Teackle  Hall,  Virgie  was  her 
young  mistress's  shield-bearer,  like  David  to  the  princely 
Jonathan. 


2$2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Why,  Virgie,"  Samson  answered,  with  humility,  "  I 
never  meant  not  to  go,  lady  gal,  after  marster's  wife  asked 
me.  I  only  wanted  you  to  beg  me  hard,  an'  mebbe  I'd 
git  a  kiss  befo'  I  started." 

"  Wait  till  you  come  back,  and  see  if  you  do  your  er 
rand  well,"  Virgie  spoke  again.  "  I  shall  not  kiss  you 
now." 

"  I  will,"  cried  little  Roxy,  to  the  amusement  of  them 
all,  giving  Samson  a  hearty  smack  from  her  little  pouting 
mouth ;  "  and  now  you've  got  it,  think  it's  Virgie's  kiss, 
and  get  your  breakfast  and  start !" 

As  they  went  to  their  abodes  to  make  ready,  Jimmy 
Phoebus  found  Jack  Wonnell  playing  marbles  with  the 
boys  at  the  court-house  corner. 

"Jack,"  he  said,  "I'm  a-going  to  find  Levin  an'  that 
nigger  trader.  I  may  git  in  a  peck  of  trouble  up  yonder 
on  the  Nanticoke.  Tell  all  the  pungy  men  whair  I'm 
a-goin',  an'  what  fur." 

"Can't  I  do  somethin'  fur  you,  Jimmy?  Can't  I  give 
you  one  o'  my  bell-crowns  ;  thair's  a-plenty  of  'em  left." 

"  Take  my  advice,  Jack,  an'  tie  a  stone  to  all  them  hats 
and  sink  'em  in  the  Manokin.  Ole  Meshach's  hat  has 
made  more  hokey-pokey  than  the  Bank  of  Somerset. 
Pore  an'  foolish  as  you  air,  maybe  your  ole  bell-crowns 
will  ruin  you." 

The  road  to  Salisbury — laid  out  in  1667,  when  "Cecil, 
Lord  of  Maryland  and  Avalon,"  erected  a  county  "in 
honor  of  our  dear  sister,  the  Lady  Mary  Somerset " — fol 
lowed  the  beaver-dams  across  the  little  river-heads,  and 
pierced  the  flat  pine-woods  and  open  farms,  and  passed 
through  two  little  hamlets,  before  our  travellers  saw  the 
broad  mill-ponds  and  poplar  and  mulberry  lined  streets 
of  the  most  active  town — albeit  without  a  court-house — 
in  the  lower  peninsula.  Jimmy  Phoebus,  driving  the  two 
horses  and  the  family  carnage,  and  Samson,  following  on 
his  mule,  descended  into  the  hollow  of  Salisbury  at  the 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  253 

dinner-hour,  and  stopped  at  the  hotel.  The  snore  of 
grist-mills,  the  rasp  of  mill-saws,  the  flow  of  pine-colored 
breast-water  into  the  gorge  of  the  village,  the  forest  cy 
press-trees  impudently  intruding  into  the  obliquely-radi 
ating  streets,  and  humidity  of  ivy  and  creeper  over  many 
of  the  old,  gable-chimneyed  houses,  the  long  lumber-yards 
reflected  in  the  swampy  harbor  among  the  canoes,  pun- 
gies,  and  sharpies  moored  there,  the  small  houses  side- 
wise  to  the  sandy  streets,  the  larger  ones  rising  up  the 
sandy  hills,  the  old  box-bush  in  the  silvery  gardens,  the 
bridges  close  together,  and  the  smell  of  tar  and  sawdust 
pleasantly  inhaled  upon  the  lungs,  made  a  combination 
like  a  caravan  around  some  pool  in  the  Desert  of  the 
Nile. 

"  If  there  is  any  chance  to  catch  my  negroes,"  Mrs. 
Custis  said,  "  I  will  go  right  on  after  dinner.  Samson, 
send  Dave,  my  daughter's  boy,  to  me  immediately;  he  is 
working  in  this  hotel." 

Samson  found  Dave  to  be  none  other  than  the  black 
class-leader  he  had  failed  to  overcome  at  the  beginning 
of  our  narrative,  but  changes  were  visible  in  that  individ 
ual  Samson  had  not  expected.  From  having  a  clean, 
godly,  modest  countenance,  becoming  his  professions, 
Dave  now  wore  a  sour,  evil  look ;  his  eyes  were  blood- 
shotten,  and  his  straight,  manly  shoulders  and  chest, 
which  had  once  exacted  Samson's  admiration  and  envy, 
were  stooped  to  conform  with  a  cough  he  ever  and  anon 
made  from  deep  in  his  frame. 

"Dave,"  said  Samson,  "your  missis's  modder  wants 
you,  boy,  to  drive  her  to  Vienny.  What  ails  you,  Dave, 
sence  I  larned  you  to  box  ?" 

"Is  you  de  man?"  Dave  exclaimed,  hoarsely;  "den 
may  de  Lord  forgive  you,  fur  I  never  kin.  Dat  lickin'  I 
mos'  give  you,  made  me  a  po',  wicked,  backslidin'  fool." 

"  Why,  Dave,  I  jess  saw  you  was  a  good  man  ;  I  didn't 
mean  you  no  harm,  boy." 


254  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  You  ruined  me,  free  nigger,"  repeated  the  huge  slave, 
with  a  scowl,  partly  of  revenge  and  partly  remorse.  "  You 
set  up  my  conceit  dat  I  could  box.  I  had  never  struck 
a  chile  till  dat  day ;  after  dat  I  went  aroun'  pickin'  quar 
rels  wid  bigger  niggers,  an'  low  white  men  backed  me  to 
fight.  I  was  turned  out  o'  my  church  ;  I  turned  my  back 
on  de  Lord  ;  whiskey  tuk  hold  o'  me,  Samson.  De  deb- 
bil  has  entered  into  Class-leader  Dave." 

"  Oh,  brudder,  wake  up  an'  do  better.  Yer,  I  give  you 
a  dollar,  an'  want  to  be  your  friend,  Davy,  boy." 

"I'll  git  drink  wid  it,"  Dave  muttered,  going;  and,  as 
he  passed  out  of  the  stable-door  he  looked  back  at  Sam 
son  fiercely,  and  exclaimed,  "  May  Satan  burn  your  body 
as  he  will  burn  my  soul.  I  hate  you,  man,  long  as  you 
live  !" 

Jimmy  Phcebus  remarked,  a  few  moments  afterwards, 
that  Dave,  dividing  a  pint  of  spirits  with  a  lean  little 
mulatto  boy,  put  a  piece  of  money  in  the  boy's  hands, 
who  then  rode  rapidly  out  of  the  tavern-yard  upon  a  fleet 
Chincoteague  pony. 

At  two  o'clock  they  again  set  forward,  the  man  Dave 
driving  the  carriage  and  Jimmy  Phcebus  sitting  beside 
him,  while  Samson  easily  kept  alongside  upon  his  old 
roan  mule,  the  road  becoming  more  sandy  as  they  as 
cended  the  plateau  between  the  Wicomico  and  Nanticoke, 
and  the  carriage  drawing  hard. 

"  If  it  is  too  late  to  keep  on  beyond  Vienna  to-night," 
said  Mrs.  Custis,  "  I  will  stop  there  with  my  friends,  the 
Turpins,  and  start  again,  after  coffee,  in  the  morning,  and 
reach  Cambridge  for  breakfast." 

"  I  will  turn  off  at  Spring  Hill,"  Samson  spoke,  "  and 
I  kin  feed  my  mule  at  sundown  in  Laurel  an'  go  to 
sleep." 

In  an  hour  they  came  in  sight  of  old  Spring  Hill 
church,  a  venerable  relic  of  the  colonial  Established 
Church,  at  the  sources  of  a  creek  called  Rewastico  ;  and 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  255 

before  they  crossed  the  creek  the  driver,  Dave,  called 
"  Ho,  ho  !"  in  such  an  unnecessarily  loud  voice  that  Mrs. 
Custis  reproved  him  sharply.  Dave  jumped  down  from 
the  seat  and  appeared  to  be  examining  some  part  of  the 
breeching,  though  Samson  assured  him  that  it  was  all 
right.  As  Dave  finished  his  examination,  he  raised  both 
hands  above  his  head  twice,  and  stretched  to  the  height 
of  his  figure  as  he  stood  on  the  brow  of  a  little  hill. 

"  Missy  Custis,"  he  apologized,  as  he  turned  back,  "  I 
is  tired  mighty  bad  dis  a'ternoon.  Dat  stable  keeps  me 
up  half  de  night." 

"Liquor  tires  you  more,  David,"  Mrs.  Custis  spoke, 
sharply;  "and  that  tavern  is  no  place  to  hire  you  to  with 
your  appetite  for  drink,  as  I  shall  tell  your  master." 

At  this  moment  Jimmy  Phoebus  observed  the  lean  lit 
tle  mulatto  boy  who  had  left  the  hotel  come  up  out  of  the 
swampy  place  in  the  road  and  exchange  a  look  of  intelli 
gence  with  Dave  as  he  rode  past  on  the  pony. 

"  Boy,"  cried  Samson,  "  is  dat  de  road  to  Laurel  ?" 

The  boy  made  no  answer,  but,  looking  back  once,  tim 
idly,  ground  his  heels  into  the  pony's  flank  and  darted 
into  the  brush  towards  Salisbury. 

"Samson,"  spoke  Dave,  "you  see  dat  ole  woman  in 
de  cart  yonder  ?" — he  pointed  to  a  figure  ascending  the 
rise  in  the  ground  beyond  the  brook — "  I  know  her,  an' 
she's  gwyn  right  to  Laurel.  She  lives  dar.  It's  ten 
miles  from  dis  yer  turn-off,  an'  she  knows  all  dese  yer 
woods-roads." 

"Good-bye,  den,  an'  may  you  find  Aunt  Hominy  an' 
de  little  chillen,  Jimmy,  an'  bring  dem  all  home  to  Pren- 
cess  Anne  from  dat  ar  Joe  Johnson  !"  cried  Samson,  and 
trotted  his  mule  through  the  swamp  and  away.  Jimmy 
Phoebus  saw  him  overtake  the  old  woman  in  the  cart  and 
begin  to  speak  with  her  as  the  scrubby  woods  swallowed 
them  in. 

"What's  dat  he  said  about  Joe  Johnson?"  observed 


256  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

• 

Dave,  after  a  bad  spell  of  coughing,  as  they  cleared  the 
old  church  and  entered  the  sandy  pine-woods. 

Mrs.  Custis  spoke  up  more  promptly  than  Jimmy  Phoe 
bus  desired,  and  told  the  negro  about  the  escape  of 
Hominy  and  the  children,  and  the  hope  of  Mr.  Phcebns 
to  head  the  party  off  as  they  ascended  the  Nanticoke 
towards  the  Delaware  state-line. 

"  You  don't  want  to  git  among  Joe  Johnson's  men, 
boss?"  said  the  red-eyed  negro;  "dey  bosses  all  dis 
country  heah,  on  boff  sides  o'  de  state-line.  All  dat  ain't 
in  wid  dem  is  afraid  o'  dem." 

"  How  fur  is  it  from  this  roacl  to  Delaware,  Dave  ?" 
asked  Phoebus. 

"  We're  right  off  de  corner-stone  o'  Delawaw  state  dis 
very  minute.  It's  hardly  a  mile  from  whar  we  air.  De 
corner's  squar  as  de  stone  dat  sots  on  it,  an'  is  cut  wid 
a  pictur  o'  de  king's  crown." 

"  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  they  call  it,"  interpreted 
Mrs.  Custis. 

"Do  you  know  Joe  Johnson,  Dave?" 

"  Yes,  Marster  Phoebus,  you  bet  I  does.  He's  at  Salis 
bury,  he's  at  Vienna,  he's  up  yer  to  Crotcher's  Ferry,  he's 
all  ober  de  country,  but  he  don't  go  to  Delawaw  any 
more  in  de  daylight.  He  was  whipped  clar,  an'  banished 
from  de  state  on  pain  o'  de  gallows.  But  he  lives  jess 
on  dis  side  o'  de  Delawaw  line,  so  dey  can't  git  him  in 
Delawaw.  He  calls  his  place  Johnson's  Cross-roads: 
ole  Patty  Cannon  lives  dar,  too.  She's  afraid  to  stay  in 
Delawaw  now." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  occupation  of  those  terrible  people 
at  present  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Custis. 

No  answer  was  made  for  a  minute,  and  then  Dave  said, 
in  a  low,  frightened  voice,  as  he  stole  a  glance  at  both  of 
his  companions  out  of  his  fiery,  scarred  eyes  : 

"Kidnappin',  I  'spect." 

"  It's   everything  that   makes    Pangymonum,"   Jimmy 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  257 

Phoebus  explained  ;  "  that  old  woman,  Patty  Cannon,  has 
spent  the  whole  of  a  wicked  life,  by  smoke ! — or  ever 
sence  she  came  to  Delaware  from  Cannady,  as  the  bride 
of  pore  Alonzo  Cannon  —  a-makin'  robbers  an'  blood 
hounds  out  of  the  young  men  she  could  git  hold  of. 
Some  of  'em  she  sets  to  robbin'  the  mails,  some  to  makin' 
an'  passin'  of  counterfeit  money,  but  most  of 'em  she  sets 
at  stealin'  free  niggers  outen  the  State  of  Delaware ;  and, 
when  it's  safe,  they  steal  slaves  too.  She  fust  made  a 
tool  of  Ebenezer  Johnson,  the  pirate  of  Broad  Creek,  an' 
he  died  in  his  tracks  a-fightin  fur  her.  Then  she  took 
hold  of  his  sons,  Joe  Johnson  an'  young  Ebenezer,  an' 
made  'em  both  outlaws  an'  kidnappers,  an'  Joe  she  mar 
ried  to  her  daughter,  when  Bruington,  her  first  son-in-law, 
had  been  hanged.  When  Samson  Hat,  who  is  the  whitest 
nigger  I  ever  found,  knocked  Joe  Johnson  down  in  Prin 
cess  Anne,  the  night  before  last,  he  struck  the  worst  man 
in  our  peninsula." 

Dave  listened  to  this  recital  with  such  a  deep  interest 
that  his  breath,  strong  with  apple  whiskey,  came  short 
and  hot,  and  his  hands  trembled  as  he  guided  the  horses. 
At  the  last  words,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Samson  knocked  Joe  Johnson  clown  ?  Den  de  deb- 
bil  has  got  him,  and  means  to  pay  him  back !" 

"What's  that?"  cried  Jimmy  Phoebus. 

The  sweat  stood  on  the  big  slave's  forehead,  as  if  his 
imagination  was  terribly  possessed,  but  before  he  could 
explain  Mrs.  Custis  interrupted  : 

"  I  think  it  was  said  that  old  Patty  Cannon  corrupted 
Jake  Purnell,  who  cut  his  throat  at  Snow  Hill  five  years 
ago.  He  was  a  free  negro  who  engaged  slaves  to  steal 
other  slaves  and  bring  them  to  him,  and  he  delivered 
them  up  to  the  white  kidnappers  for  money;  and  nobody 
could  account  for  his  prosperity  till  a  negro  who  had  been 
beaten  to  death  was  found  in  the  Pocomoke  River,  and 
three  slaves  who  had  been  seen  in  his  company  were  ar- 

17 


258  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

rested  for  the  murder.  They  confessed  that  they  had 
stolen  the  dead  negro  and  he  had  escaped  from  them, 
and  was  so  beaten  with  clubs,  to  make  him  tractable,  that 
when  they  gave  him  to  Purnell  his  life  was  all  gone. 
Then  he  was  thrown  in  the  river,  but  his  body  came  up 
after  sinking,  and  the  confession  of  the  wretched  tools 
explained  to  the  slave-owners  where  all  their  missing  ne 
groes  had  gone.  They  marched  and  surrounded  Pur- 
nell's  hut,  and  he  was  discovered  burrowed  beneath  it. 
They  brought  the  dogs,  and  fire  to  drive  him  out,  and  as 
he  came  out  he  cut  his  throat  with  desperate  slashes  from 
ear  to  ear." 

During  this  narrative  the  man  Dave  had  listened  with 
rising  nervous  excitement,  rolling  his  eyes  as  if  in  strong 
inward  torment,  till  the  concluding  words  inspired  such 
terror  in  him  that  he  dropped  the  reins,  threw  back  his 
head,  and  shouted,  with  large  beads  of  sweat  all  round 
his  brow : 

"  Mercy  !  mercy  !  Have  mercy  !  Save  me,  oh,  my 
Lord!" 

"  He's  got  a  fit,  I  reckon,"  cried  Jimmy  Phoebus, 
promptly  grasping  the  reins  as  the  horses  started  at  the 
cry,  and  with  his  leg  pinning  Dave  to  the  carriage-seat. 
At  that  moment  the  road  descended  into  the  hollow  of 
Barren  Creek,  and,  leaping  down  at  the  old  Mineral 
Springs  Hotel,  a  health  resort  of  those  days,  Phoebus  hu 
manely  procured  water  and  freshened  up  the  gasping  ne 
gro's  face. 

"  I  declare,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  trust  myself  to  this 
man,"  Mrs.  Custis  observed,  with  more  distaste  than  trep 
idation. 

"  Every  nigger  in  this  region,"  exclaimed  Jimmy  Phoe 
bus,  "  thinks  Pangymonum's  comin'  down  at  the  dreaded 
name  of  Patty  Cannon  ;  an'  this  nigger's  gone  most  to 
ruin,  any  way." 

"Oh,  marster,"   exclaimed   the   slave,  recovering  his 


LONG   SEPARATIONS.  259 

speech  and  glaring  wildly  around,  "  I  hain't  been  always 
the  pore  sinner  rum  an'  fightin'  has  made  of  me.  I 
served  the  Lord  all  my  youth  ;  I  praised  his  name  an' 
kept  the  road  to  heaven  ;  an'  thinkin'  of  the  shipwreck 
I'se  made  of  a  good  conscience,  an'  hearin'  missis  tell  of 
the  end  of  Jake  Purnell,  it  made  me  yell  to  de  good  Lord 
for  mercy,  mercy,  oh,  my  soul !" 

His  frightful  agitation  increased,  and  Jimmy  Phoebus 
soothed  htm,  good-naturedly  saying: 

"  Mrs.  Cnstis,  I  reckon  you'd  better  let  him  come  in 
the  tavern  and  take  a  little  sperits ;  it'll  strengthen  his 
nerves  an'  make  him  drive  better." 

As  they  drank  at  the  old  summer-resort  bar,  at  that 
time  in  the  height  of  its  celebrity,  and  the  only  spa  on  the 
peninsula,  south  of  the  Brandywine  Springs,  Phoebus 
spoke  low  to  the  negro : 

"Dave,  somethin'  not  squar  and  fair  is  a-workin'  yer, 
by  smoke !  I've  got  my  eye  on  you,  nigger,  an'  sure  as 
hokey-pokey  thair  it'll  stay.  You  know  my  arrand  yer, 
Dave  :  to  save  a  pore,  ignorant,  deluded  black  woman  from 
Joe  Johnson's  band.  Now,  you've  been  a-cryin' '  Mercy  !' 
I  want  you  to  show  mercy  by  a-tellin'  of  me  whar  I'm  to 
overtake,  an'  sarch  Levin  Dennis's  catboat  if  it  comes  up 
the  Nanticoke  to-night  with  them  people  and  Joe  John 
son  aboard !" 

Having  swallowed  his  liquor  greedily,  the  colored  man 
replied,  with  his  former  lowering  countenance  and  eva 
sive  eyes  : 

"You  can't  do  nothin'  as  low  down  de  river  as  Vienny, 
'case  de  Nanticoke  is  too  wide  dar,  and  if  you  cross  it 
at  Vienny  ferry,  den  you  got  de  Norfwest  Fork  between 
you  and  Johnson's  Cross-roads,  wid  one  ferry  over  dat,  at 
Crotcher's,  an'  Joe  Johnson  owns  all  dat  place.  But  you 
kin  keep  up  dis  side  o'  de  Nanticoke,  Marster  Phcebus, 
de  same  distance  as  from  yer  to  Vienny,  to  de  pint  whar 
de  Norfwest  Fork  come  in.  Sometimes  Joe  Johnson 


260  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

sails  up  dat  big  fork  to  get  to  his  cross-roads.  In  gineral 
he  keeps  straight  up  de  oder  fork  to  Betty  Twiford's 
wharf,  right  on  de  boundary  line." 

"  How  far  is  that  ?" 

"  It's  five  miles  from  yer  to  Vienny,  and  five  miles  from 
yer  to  a  landin'  opposite  de  Norfwest  Fork.  Four  miles 
furder  on  you're  at  Sharptown,  an'  dar  you  can  see  Betty 
Twiford's  house  on  de  bank  two  miles  acrost  de  Nanti- 
coke." 

"Nine  miles,  then,  to  Sharptown  !  He's  had  the  tide 
agin  him  since  he  entered  the  Nanticoke,  and  it's  not 
turned  yit.  By  smoke  !  I'll  look  for  a  conveyance  !" 

"  You  can  ride  with  me  to  the  first  landing,"  spoke  up 
a  noble-looking  man,  whip  in  hand  ;  "and  after  delaying 
a  little  there,  I  shall  go  on  to  Sharptown  ferry  and  cross 
the  river." 

Phoebus  accepted  the  invitation  immediately,  and  cau 
tioning  Mrs.  Custis  to  speak  with  less  freedom  in  that 
part  of  the  country,  he  bade  her  adieu,  and  took  the  va 
cant  seat  in  the  stranger's  buggy. 

When  Mrs.  Custis  came  to  Vienna  ferry,  and  the  horses 
and  carriage  went  on  board  the  scow  to  be  rowed  to  the 
little,  old,  shipping  settlement  of  that  name,  the  negro 
Dave,  standing  at  the  horses'  heads,  exchanged  a  few 
sentences  with  the  ferry-keeper. 

"  Dave,"  called  Mrs.  Custis,  a  little  later  on,  "you  have 
no  love,  I  see,  for  old  Samson." 

"  He  made  a  boxer  outen  me  an'  a  bad  man,  missis." 

"Do  you  know  the  man  he  works  for — Meshach  Mil- 
burn  ?"  ' 

"  No,  missis.     I  never  see  him." 

"  He  wears  a  peculiar  hat — nothing  like  gentlemen's 
hats  nowadays:  it  is  a  hat  out  of  a  thousand." 

"I  never  did  see  it,  missis." 

"  You  cannot  mistake  it  for  any  other  hat  in  the  world. 
Now,  Samson  is  the  only  servant  and  watchman  at  Mr. 


NANTICOKE    PEOPLE.  261 

Milburn's  store,  and  he  attends  to  that  disgraceful  hat. 
If  you  can  ever  get  it  from  him,  Dave,  and  destroy  it,  you 
will  be  doing  a  useful  act,  and  I  will  reward  you  well." 

The  moody  negro  looked  up  from  his  remorseful,  bru 
talized  orbs,  and  said  : 

"Steal  it?" 

"  Oh,  no,  I  do  not  advise  a  theft,  David — though  such  a 
wretched  hat  can  have  no  legal  value.  It  is  an  affliction 
to  my  daughter  and  Judge  Custis  and  all  of  us,  and  you 
might  find  some  way  to  destroy  it — that  is  all." 

"  I'll  git  it  some  day,"  the  negro  muttered  ;  and  drove 
into  the  old  tobacco-port  of  Vienna. 


CHAPTER  XXII, 

NANTICOKE     PEOPLE, 

A  MAP  would  be  out  of  place  in  a  story,  yet  there  are 
probably  some  who  perceive  that  this  is  a  story  with  a 
reality ;  and  if  such  will  take  any  atlas  and  open  it  at  the 
"  Middle  States"  of  the  American  republic,  they  will  see 
that  the  little  State  of  Delaware  is  fitted  as  nicely  into  a 
square  niche  of  Maryland  as  if  it  were  a  lamp,  or  piece 
of  statuary,  standing  on  a  mantelpiece.  It  stands  there 
on  a  mantelshelf  about  forty  miles  wide,  and  rises  to 
more  than  three  times  that  height,  making  a  perfectly 
straight  north  and  south  line  at  right  angles  with  its  base. 
Thus  mortised  into  Maryland,  its  ragged  eastern  line  is 
formed  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  the  broad  Delaware 
Bay. 

The  only  considerable  river  within  this  narrow  strip  or 
Hermes  of  a  state  is  the  Nanticoke,  which,  like  a  crack  in 
the  wall, — and  the  same  blow  fractured  the  image  on 
the  mantel, — flows  with  breadth  and  tidal  ebb  and  flow 
from  the  Chesapeake  Bay  through  the  Eastern  Shore  of 


262  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Maryland  into  Delaware,  and  is  there  formed  of  two 
tidal  sources,  the  one  to  the  north  continuing  to  be  called 
the  Nanticoke,  and  that  to  the  south — nearly  as  imposing 
a  stream — named  Broad  Creek. 

Nature,  therefore,  as  if  anticipating  some  foolish  politi 
cal  boundaries  on  the  part  of  man,  prepared  one  drain 
and  channel  of  ingress  at  the  southwestern  corner  of 
Delaware  to  the  splendid  bay  of  Virginia. 

Around  that  corner  of  the  little  Delaware  common 
wealth,  in  a  flat,  poor,  sandy,  pine -grown  soil,  Jimmy 
Phoebus  rode  by  the  stranger  in  the  afternoon  of  Octo 
ber,  with  the  sun,  an  hour  high  in  the  west,  shining  upon 
his  dark,  Greekish  cheeks  and  neck,  and  he  hearing  the 
fall  birds  whistle  and  cackle  in  the  mellowing  stubble 
and  golden  thickets. 

The  meadow-lark,  the  boy's  delight,  was  picking  seed, 
gravel,  and  insects'  eggs  in  the  fields — large  and  par 
tridge-like,  with  breast  washed  yellow  from  the  bill  to 
the  very  knees,  except  at  the  throat,  where  hangs  a  brill 
iant  reticule  of  blackish  brown  ;  his  head  and  back  are 
of  hawkish  colors — umber,  brown,  and  gray — and  in  his 
carriage  is  something  of  the  gamecock.  He  flies  high, 
sometimes  alone,  sometimes  in  the  flock,  and  is  our  win 
ter  visitor,  loving  the  old  fields  improvidence  has  aban 
doned,  and  uttering,  as  he  feeds,  the  loud  sounds  of  chal 
lenge,  as  if  to  cry,  "Abandoned  by  man  ;  pre-empted  by 
me !" 

Jimmy  Phcebus  also  heard  the  bold,  bantering  wood 
pecker,  with  his  red  head,  whose  schoolmaster  is  the 
squirrel,  and  whose  tactics  of  keeping  a  tree  between 
him  and  his  enemy  the  Indian  fighters  adopted.  He 
mimics  the  tree-frog's  cry,  and  migrates  after  October, 
like  other  voluptuaries,  who  must  have  the  round  year 
warm,  and  fruit  and  eggs  always  in  market.  Dressed  in 
his  speckled  black  swallow-tail  coat,  with  his  long  pen  in 
his  mouth  and  his  shirt-bosom  faultlessly  white,  the  wood- 


NANTICOKE   PEOPLE.  263 

pecker  works  like  some  Balzac  in  his  garret,  making  the 
tree-top  lively  as  he  spars  with  his  fellow  -  Bohemians ; 
and  being  sure  himself  of  a  tree,  and  clinging  to  it  with 
both  tail  and  talons,  he  esteems  everything  else  that  lives 
upon  it  to  be  an  insect  at  which  he  may  run  his  bill  or 
spit  his  tongue — that  tongue  which  is  rooted  in  the  brain 
itself. 

In  the  hollow  golden  bowl  of  echoing  evening  the  sail 
or  noted,  too,  the  flicker,  in  golden  pencilled  wings  and 
back  of  speckled  umber  and  mottled  white  breast,  with 
coal-black  collar  and  neck  and  head  of  cinnamon.  His 
golden  tail  droops  far  below  his  perch,  and,  running 
downward  along  the  tree-trunk,  it  flashes  in  the  air  like 
a  sceptre  over  the  wood-lice  he  devours  with  his  pickaxe 
bill.  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard  !"  was  an  instigation 
to  murder  in  the  flicker,  who  loves  young  ants  as  much 
as  wild-cherries  or  Indian  corn,  and  is  capable  of  taking 
any  such  satire  seriously  upon  things  to  eat.  Not  so  elfin 
and  devilish  as  the  small  black  woodpecker,  he  is  full  of 
bolder  play. 

The  redbird,  like  the  unclaimed  blood  of  Abel,  flew  to 
the  little  trees  that  grew  low,  as  if  to  cover  Abel's  altar  \ 
the  jack-snipe  chirped  in  the  swampy  spots,  like  a  divin 
ity  student,  on  his  clean,  long  legs,  probing  with  his  bill 
and  critical  eye  the  Scriptures  of  the  fields ;  the  quail 
piped  like  an  old  bachelor  with  family  cares  at  last,  as 
he  led  his  mate  where  the  wild  seeds  were  best;  and 
through  the  air  darted  voices  of  birds  forsaken  or  on 
doctor's  errands,  crying  "Phcebe?  Phcebe?"  or  "Killed 
he  !  killed  he  1" 

"Are  you  a  dealer?"  asked  the  gentleman  of  Jimmy 
Phoebus. 

"Just  a  little  that  way,"  said  Jimmy,  warily,  "when  I 
kin  git  somethin'  cheap."  x.v  , 

The  stranger  had  a  pair  of  keen,  dancing  eyes,  and  a 
long,  eloquent,  silver-gray  face  that  might  have  suited  a 


264  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

great  general,  so  fine  was  its  command,  and  yet  too  nar 
rowly  dancing  in  the  eyes,  like  spiders  in  a  well,  disturb' 
ing  the  mirror  there. 

"  Ha  !"  chuckled  the  man,  as  if  his  eyes  had  chuckled, 
so  poorly  did  that  sound  represent  his  lordly  stature  and 
look  of  high  spirit — "ha!  that's  what  brings  them  all  to 
my  neighbor  Johnson  :  a  fair  quotient !" 

"Quotient?"  repeated  Jimmy. 

"Johnson's  a  great  factor  hereabout,"  continued  the 
military-looking  man,  bending  his  handsome  eyes  on  the 
bay  captain,  as  if  there  was  a  business  secret  between 
them,  and  peering  at  once  mischievously  and  nobly ; 
"he  makes  the  quotient  to  suit.  He  leaves  the  suttle 
large  and  never  stints  the  cloff." 

"  He  don't  narry  a  feller  down  to  the  cloth  he's  got, 
sir?"  assented  Jimmy,  dubiously. 

"Why should  he?  His  equation  is  simple:  I  suppose 
you  know  what  it  is." 

"  Not  ezackly,"  answered  Phoebus,  pricking  up  his  ears 
to  learn. 

"  Well,  it  is  force  and  class  sympathy  against  a  dead 
quantity:  laws  which  have  no  consignees,  cattle  which 
have  no  lawyer  and  no  tongue,  rights  which  have  lapsed 
by  their  assertion  being  suspended,  till  demand  and  sup 
ply,  like  a  pair  of  bulldogs,  tear  what  is  left  to  pieces. 
Armed  with  his  ca.  sa.,  my  neighbor  Johnson  offsets  every 
body's^,  fa.,  serves  his  writ  the  first,  and  makes  to  gentle 
men  like  you  a  satisfactory  quotient.  But  he  cuts  no 
capers  with  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon !" 

"  I  expect  now  that  you  are  Jacob  Cannon  ?"  remarked 
the  tawny  sailor,  not  having  understood  a  word  of  what 
preceded.  "If  that's  the  case,  I'm  glad  to  know  your 
name,  and  thank  you  for  givin'  me  this  lift." 

By  a  bare  nod,  just  intelligible,  Mr.  Cannon  signified 
that  the  guess  would  do;  and  still  meditating  aloud  in 
his  small,  grand  way,  continued  : 


NANTICOKE    PEOPLE.  265 

"  We  let  neighbor  Johnson  and  his  somewhat  peculiar 
mother-in-law  make  such  commerce  as  suits  him,  provid 
ed  he  studies  to  give  us  no  inconvenience.  That  is  his 
equation  •  with  his  quotient  we  have  no  concern  other 
than  our  slight  interest  in  his  wastage,  as  when  Madame 
Cannon  rides  down  to  change  a  bill  and  leaves  an  order 
for  supplies — rum,  chiefly,  I  believe.  Gentlemen  like  you 
come  into  this  country  to  deal,  replevin,  or  what  not,  and 
we  say  to  you  all, '  Don't  tread  on  us — that  is  all.'  We 
shall  not  look  into  your  parcels,  nor  lie  awake  of  nights 
to  hear  alarms ;  but  harm  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon  one 
ha'pence  and  levari  facias,  Jt,  fa.  /" 

"  And  fee-fo-fum,"  ejaculated  Jimmy,  cheerfully;  "  I've 
hearn  it  before." 

Looking  again  with  some  curiosity  at  his  companion, 
Phcebus  saw  that  he  was  not  beyond  fifty  years  of  age, 
of  a  spare,  lofty  figure — at  least  six  feet  four  high — sit 
ting  straight  and  graceful  as  an  Indian,  his  clothes  well- 
tailored,  his  countenance  and  features  both  stern  and 
refined  ;  every  feature  perfected,  and  all  keen  without 
being  hard  or  angular — and  yet  Jimmy  did  not  like  him. 
There  seemed  to  have  been  made  a  commodore  or  a 
general — some  one  designed  for  deeds  of  chivalry  and 
great  philanthropy ;  and  yet  around  and  between  the 
dancing  eyes  spider  lines  were  drawn,  as  if  the  fine  high 
brain  of  Jacob  Cannon  had  put  aside  matters  that  matched 
it  and  meddled  with  nothing  that  ascended  higher  above 
the  world  than  the  long  white  bridge  of  his  nose.  His 
sentiments  apparently  fell  no  further  towards  his  heart 
than  that ;  his  brain  belonged  to  the  bridge  of  his  nose. 

"Another  Meshach  Milburn,  by  smoke!"  concluded 
Jimmy. 

After  a  little  pause  Phcebus  inquired  into  the  charac 
ter  of  the  people  in  this  apparently  new  region  of  country. 

"The  quotient  of  much  misplanting  and  lawyering  is 
the  lands  on  the  Nanticoke,"  spoke  the  gray-nosed  Apol- 


266  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

lo ;  "  the  piece  of  country  directly  before  us,  in  the  rear 
of  my  neighbor  Johnson's  cross-roads,  was  an  old  Indian 
reservation  for  seventy  years,  and  so  were  three  thousand 
acres  to  our  right,  on  Broad  Creek.  The  Indian  is  a  bad 
factor  to  civilize  his  white  neighbors ;  he  does  not  know 
the  luxury  of  the  law,  that  grand  contrivance  to  make  the 
equation  between  the  business  man  and  the  herd.  Ha, 
ha  !" 

Mr.  Cannon  chuckled  as  if  he,  at  least,  appreciated  the 
law,  and  turned  the  fine  horsy  bridge  of  his  nose,  all  gray 
with  dancing  eyelight,  enjoyingly  upon  Mr.  Phcebus. 

"  The  Indians  were  long  imposed  upon,  and  when  they 
went  away,  at  the  brink  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  they 
left  a  demoralized  white  race  ;  and  others  who  moved  in 
upon  the  deserted  lands  of  the  Nanticokes  were,  if  possi 
ble,  more  Indian  than  the  Indians.  This  peninsula  never 
produced  a  great  Indian,  but  when  Ebenezer  Johnson 
settled  on  Broad  Creek  it  possessed  a  greater  savage 
than  Tecumseh.  He  took  what  he  wanted  and  appealed 
to  nature,  like  the  Indian.  He  stole  nothing  ;  he  merely 
took  it.  He  served,  with  anything  convenient,  from  his 
fists  to  a  blunderbuss,  his^.  fa.  and  his  ca.  sa.  upon  won 
dering  but  submissive  mankind.  Need  I  say  that  this 
was  before  the  perfect  day  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon?" 

"  They  would  have  socked  it  to  him,  I  reckon,"  Jimmy 
exclaimed,  consonantly. 

Mr.  Jacob  Cannon  gave  a  tender  smile,  such  as  the 
gray  horse  emits  at  the  prospect  of  oats,  and  continued  : 

"Such  was  the  multiplicand  to  make  the  future  race. 
Here,  too,  raged  the  boundary-line  debate  between  Penns 
and  Calverts,  with  occasional  raids  and  broken  heads, 
and  a  noble  suit  in  chancery  of  fifty  years,  till  no  man's 
title  was  known,  and,  instead  of  improving  their  lands,  our 
voluptuous  predecessors  improved  chiefly  their  opportu 
nities.  You  cut  sundry  cords  of  wood  and  hauled  it  to 
the  landing,  and  Ebenezer  Johnson  coolly  scowed  it  over 


NANTICOKE    PEOPLE.  267 

to  his  paradise  at  the  mouth  of  Broad  Creek.  You  had 
a  little  parcel  of  negroes,  but  the  British  war-ships,  in  two 
successive  wars,  lay  in  the  river  mouth  and  beckoned 
them  off.  Having  no  interest  in  any  certain  property, 
the  foresters  of  the  Nanticoke  would  rather  trade  with 
the  enemy  than  fight  for  foolish  ideas;  and  so  this  re 
gion  was  more  than  half  Tory,  and  is  still  half  pas 
sive,  the  other  half  predatory.  To  neither  half  of  such 
a  quotient  belongs  the  house  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  Can 
non  !" 

His  nostrils  swelled  a  trifle  with  military  spirit,  and  he 
raised  the  bridge  of  his  nose  delicately,  turning  to  observe 
his  instinctive  companion. 

"  If  it's  any  harm  I  won't  ask  it,"  the  easy-going  mari 
ner  spoke,  "but  air  you  two  Cannons  ary  kin  to  ole  Patty 
Cannon  ?" 

Mr.  Cannon  smiled. 

"In  Adam  all  sinned — there  we  may  have  been  connect 
ed,"  he  said.  "The  question  you  ask  may  one  day  be 
actionable,  sir.  The  Cannons  are  a  numerous  people  in 
our  region,  of  fair  substance,  such  as  we  have,  but  they 
showed  nothing  to  vary  the  equation  of  subsistence  here 
till  there  arose  the  mother  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon. 
She  was  a  remarkable  woman ;  unassisted,  she  procured 
the  charter  for  Cannon's  Ferry,  and  made  the  port  settle 
ment  of  that  name  by  the  importance  her  ferry  acquired  ; 
and  when  she  died  there  were  found  in  her  house  nine 
hundred  dollars  in  silver — for  she  never  would  take  any 
paper  money — the  earnings  of  that  sequestered  ferry,  to 
start  her  sons  on  their  career.  She  knew  the  peculiar 
character  of  some  of  her  neighbors — how  lightly  meum 
and  tuum  sat  upon  their  fears  or  consciences — but  she 
kept  no  guard  except  her  own  good  gray  eyes  and  daunt 
less  heart  over  that  accumulating  pile  of  little  sixpences, 
for  there  was  but  one  spirit  as  bold  as  she  in  all  this  re 
gion  of  the  world — " 


268  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"And  that,  I  reckon,"  observed  Jimmy  Phoebus,  "was 
ole  Patty  Cannon  herself." 

Mr.  Jacob  Cannon  slightly  bowed  his  head,  and  spoke 
aloud  from  an  inner  communion  : 

"  Forgive  me,  mother,  that  I  make  the  comparison  ! 
Thy  frugal  oil,  that  burned  with  pure  and  lonely  widow's 
flame  at  Cannon's  Ferry  window,  the  traveller  hailed  with 
comfort  in  his  heart,  and  blessed  the  enterprise.  But  to 
compound  the  equation  another  unknown  quantity  of  fe 
male  force  arose  beside  my  mother's  lamp.  A  certain 
young  Cannon,  distantly  of  our  stock,  must  needs  go  see 
the  world,  and  he  returned  with  a  fair  demon  of  a  bride, 
and  settled,  too,  at  Cannon's  Ferry.  He  lived  to  see  the 
wondrous  serpent  he  had  warmed  in  his  arms,  and  died, 
they  say,  of  the  sting.  But  she  lived  on,  and,  shrinking 
back  into  the  woods  to  a  little  farm  my  mother's  sons 
rented  to  her,  she  lighted  there  a  Jack-o'-the-lantern  many 
a  traveller  has  pursued  who  never  returned  to  tell.  With 
Ebenezer  Johnson's  progeny  and  her  own  siren  sisters, 
who  followed  Madame  Cannon  to  the  Nanticoke,  the 
nucleus  of  a  settlement  began,  and  has  existed  for  twenty 
years,  that  only  the  Almighty's  venire  facias  can  explore."* 

"That's  my  arrand,  Jacob  Cannon,"  quietly  remarked 
Jimmy Phcebus.  "I'm  a  pore  man  from  Prencess  Anne. 
If  you  took  me  for  a  nigger-dealer  you  did  me  as  pore  a 

*  "  Slavery,  in  the  State  of  Delaware,  never  had  any  constitutional 
recognition.  It  existed  in  the  colonial  period  by  custom,  as  over 
the  whole  country,  but  subject  to  be  regulated  or  abolished  by  sim 
ple  legislative  enactment.  Very  early  the  State  of  Delaware  under 
took  its  regulation,  with  the  view  of  securing  the  personal  and  indi 
vidual  rights  of  the  persons  so  held  in  bondage,  and  to  prevent  the 
increase  by  importation.  In  1787  the  export  of  Delaware  slaves  was 
forbidden  to  the  Carolinas,  Georgia,  and  the  West  Indies,  and  two 
years  later  the  prohibition  was  extended  to  Maryland  and  Virginia, 
and  it  never  was  repealed,  and  in  1793  the  first  penalties  were  en 
acted  against  kidnappers." — Letter  of  lion.  N.  B.  Smithers  to  the 
Author 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND.  269 

compliment  as  when  I  asked  if  you  was  Patty  Cannon's 
kin.  But  I  have  got  just  one  gal  to  love  and  just  one 
life  to  lose,  an'  if  God  takes  me  thar,  I'm  a-goin'  to  John 
son's  Cross-roads." 

Mr.  Jacob  Cannon  turned  and  examined  his  compan 
ion  with  some  twinkling  care,  but  showed  no  personal 
concern. 

"  Every  man  must  be  his  own  security,  my  dark-skinned 
friend,  till  he  can  find  a  bailsman.  That  place  I  never 
take — neither  the  debtor's  nor  the  security.  The  firm 
of  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon  allows  no  trespass,  and  fur 
ther  concern  themselves  not.  But  we  are  at  the  Nanti- 
coke." 

"  I'm  obliged  to  you  for  the  lift,  Mr.  Jacob  Cannon," 
said  Jimmy,  springing  down,  "and  hope  you  may  never 
find  it  inconvenient  to  have  let  such  a  pack  of  wolves  use 
your  neighborhood  to  trespass  on  human  natur." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
TWIFORD'S    ISLAND. 

SOME  piles  of  wood  and  an  old  wharf  were  at  the  river 
side,  and  a  little  scow,  half  filled  with  water,  and  with  only 
a  broken  piece  of  paddle  in  it,  was  the  only  boat  the 
pungy  captain  could  find.  The  merchant's  buggy  was 
soon  out  of  sight,  and  the  wide,  gray  Nanticoke,  several 
hundred  yards  wide,  and  made  wider  by  a  broad  river 
that  flowed  into  it  through  low  bluffs  and  levels  imme 
diately  opposite,  was  receiving  the  strong  shadows  of  ap 
proaching  night,  and  the  tide  was  running  up  it  violent 
and  deep. 

Long  lines  of  melancholy  woods  shut  both  these  rivers 
in  ;  an  osprey  suddenly  struck  the  surface  of  the  water, 
like  a  drowning  man,  and  rose  "as  if  it  had  escaped  from 


270  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

some  demon  in  the  flood  ;  the  silence  following  his  plunge 
was  deeper  than  ever,  till  a  goatsucker,  noiselessly  mak 
ing  his  zigzag  chase,  cried,  as  if  out  of  eternal  gloom,  his 
solemn  command  to  "  Whip  poor  Will."  Those  notes  re 
peated — as  by  some  slave  ordering  his  brother  to  be 
lashed,  or  one  sympathetic  soul  in  perdition  made  the 
time-caller  to  another's  misery — floated  on  the  evening 
light  as  if  the  oars  of  Charon  echoed  on  the  Styx,  and 
broken  hearts  were  crossing  over. 

Alone,  unintimidated,  but  not  altogether  comfortable, 
Jimmy  Phcebus  proceeded  to  bail  out  the  old  scow,  and 
wished  he  had  accepted  one  of  Jack  WonnelPs  hats  to  do 
the  task,  and,  when  he  had  finished  it,  the  stars  and  clouds 
were  manoeuvring  around  each  other  in  the  sky,  with  the 
clouds  the  more  aggressive,  and  finally  some  drops  of 
rain  punctured  the  long,  bare  muscles  of  the  inflowing 
tide,  making  a  reticule  of  little  pittings,  like  a  net  of  beads 
on  drifting  women's  tresses.  As  night  advanced,  a  puff 
ing  something  ascended  the  broad,  black  aisle  of  this  for 
est  river,  and  slowly  the  Norfolk  steamboat  rumbled  past, 
with  passengers  for  the  Philadelphia  stage.  Then  silence 
drew  a  sheet  of  fog  around  herself  and  passed  into  a  cold 
torpor  of  repose,  affected  only  by  the  waves  that  licked 
the  shores  with  intermittent  thirst. 

The  waterman,  regretting  a  little  that  he  had  not  taken 
his  stand  at  Vienna,  where  human  assistance  might  have 
been  procured,  and  thinking  that  the  poison  airs  might 
also  afflict  him  with  Meshach  Milburn's  complaints, 
fought  sleep  away  till  midnight,  straining  his  eyes  and 
ears  ever  and  anon  for  signs  of  some  sail ;  but  nothing 
drew  near,  and  he  had  insensibly  closed  his  lids  and 
might  have  soon  been  in  deep  sleep,  but  that  he  sudden 
ly  heard,  between  his  dreams  and  this  world,  something 
like  a  little  baby  moaning  in  the  night. 

He  sat  up  in  the  damp  scow,  where  he  had  been  lying, 
and  listened  with  all  his  senses  wide  open,  and  once  again 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND.  271 

the  cry  was  wafted  upon  the  river  zephyrs,  and  before 
it  died  away  the  sailor's  paddle  was  in  the  water,  and 
his  frail,  awkward  vessel  was  darting  across  the  tide. 

He  saw,  in  the  black  night,  what  none  but  a  sailor's  eyes 
would  have  seen,  a  thing  not  visible,  but  divined,  coming 
along  on  the  bosom  of  the  river ;  and  his  ears  saw  it  the 
clearer  as  that  little  cry  continued — now  stopped,  now 
stifled,  now  rising,  now  nearly  piercing ;  and  then  there 
was  a  growl,  momentary  and  loud,  and  a  rattle  as  of  feet 
over  wood,  and  a  stroke  or  thud,  or  heavy  concussion, 
and  then  a  white  thing  rose  up  against  the  universal  ink 
and  rushed  on  the  little  scow,  sucking  water  as  it  came — 
the  cat-boat  under  full  sail. 

Phoebus  had  paddled  for  the  opposite  shore  of  the  river 
to  prevent  the  object  of  his  quest  escaping  up  the  North 
west  Fork,  yet  to  be  in  its  path  if  it  beat  up  the  main 
fork,  and,  by  a  piece  of  instinctive  calculation,  he  had  run 
nearly  under  the  cat-boat  bows. 

"Ahoy,  there  !"  cried  Jimmy,  standing  up  in  his  tipsy 
little  skiff;  "ahoy  the  Ellenory  Dennis!  I'm  a-comin' 
aboard." 

And  with  this,  the  paddle  still  in  his  hand,  and  his 
knees  and  feet  nearly  sentient  in  their  providence  of 
uses,  the  sailor  threw  himself  upon  the  low  gunwale,  and 
let  it  glide  through  his  palms  till  he  could  see  the  man  at 
the  helm. 

There  was  no  light  to  be  called  so,  but  the  helmsman 
was  yet  perceived  by  the  sailor's  experienced  eyes,  and 
he  grappled  the  gunwale  firmer,  and,  preparing  to  swing 
himself  on  board,  shouted  hoarsely, 

"  You  Levin  Dennis,  I  see  you,  by  smoke  !  You  know 
Jimmy  Phoebus  is  your  friend,  an'  come  out  of  this  Pan- 
gymonum  an'  stop  a-breakin'  of  your  mother's  heart ! 
Oh,  I  see  you,  my  son  !" 

If  he  did  see  Levin  Dennis,  Levin  did  not  see  Jimmy 
Phoebus,  nor  apparently  hear  him,  but  stood  motionless 


272  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

at  the  helm  as  a  frozen  man,  looking  straight  on  in  the 
night.  The  rigging  made  a  little  flapping,  the  rudder 
.creaked  on  its  hooks,  but  every  human  sound  was  still 
as  the  grave  now,  and  the  boy  at  the  helm  seemed  petri 
fied  and  deaf  and  blind. 

The  pungy  captain's  temper  rose,  his  superstition  not 
being  equal  to  that  of  most  people,  and  he  cried  again, 

"  You're  a  disgrace  to  the  woman  that  bore  you.  Hell's 
a-waitin'  for  your  pore  tender  body  an'  soul.  Heave 
ahoy  an'  let  drop  that  gaff,  an'  take  me  aboard,  Levin  !" 

Still  silent  and  passive  as  a  stone,  the  youthful  figure 
at  the  helm  did  not  seem  to  breathe,  and  the  cat-boat  cut 
the  water  like  a  fish-hawk. 

A  flash  of  bright  fire  lighted  up  the  vessel's  side,  a  loud 
pistol-shot  rang  out,  and  the  sailor's  hands  loosened  from 
the  gunwale  and  clutched  at  the  air,  and  he  felt  the  black 
night  fall  on  him  as  if  he  had  pulled  clown  its  ebony  col 
umns  upon  his  head. 

He  knew  no  more  for  hours,  till  he  felt  himself  lying 
in  cold  water  and  saw  the  gray  morning  coming  through 
tree-boughs  over  his  head.  He  had  a  thirsty  feeling  and 
pain  somewhere,  and  for  a  few  minutes  did  not  move, 
but  lay  there  on  his  shoulder,  holding  to  something  and 
guessing  what  it  might  be,  and  where  he  might  be  mak 
ing  his  bed  in  this  chilly  autumn  dawn. 

His  hand  was  clutching  the  a-stern  plank  of  the  old 
scow,  and  was  so  stiff  he  could  not  for  some  time  open 
it.  The  scow  was  aground  upon  a  marshy  shore,  in  which 
some  large  trees  grew,  and  were  the  fringes  of  a  woods 
that  deepened  farther  back. 

"By  smoke!"  muttered  Jimmy,  "if  yer  ain't  hokey- 
pokey.  But  I  reckon  I  ain't  dead,  nohow." 

With  this  he  lifted  the  other  hand,  that  had  been 
stretched  beneath  his  head,  and  was  also  numb  with 
cramp  and  cold,  and  it  was  full  of  blood. 

"  Well,"  said  Jimmy,  "  that  feller  did  hit  me ;  but,  if 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND.  273 

he'll  lend  me  his  pistol,  I'll  fire  a  straighter  slug  than 
his'n.  I  wonder  where  it  is." 

Feeling  around  his  head,  the  captain  came  to  a  raw 
spot,  the  touch  of  which  gave  him  acute  pain,  and  made 
the  blood  flow  freshly  as  he  withdrew  his  hand,  and  he 
could  just  speak  the  words,  "Water,  or  I'll — "  when  he 
swooned  away. 

The  sun  was  up  and  shining  cheerily  in  the  tree-tops 
as  Phoebus,  who  was  its  name-bearer,  recovered  his  senses 
again,  and  he  bathed  his  face,  still  lying  down,  and  tore 
a  piece  of  his  raiment  off  for  a  bandage,  and,  by  the  mir 
ror  of  a  still,  green  pool  of  water,  examined  his  wound, 
which  was  in  the  fleshy  part  of  his  cheek — a  little  groove 
or  gutter,  now  choked  with  almost  dried  blood,  where  the 
ball  had  ploughed  a  line.  It  had  probably  struck  a  bone, 
but  had  not  broken  it,  and  this  had  stunned  him. 

"  I  was  so  ugly  before  that  Ellenory  wouldn't  more 
than  half  look  at  me,"  Jimmy  mused,  "an'  now,  I  'spect, 
she'll  never  kiss  that  air  cheek." 

He  then  bandaged  his  cheek  roughly,  sitting  up,  and 
took  a  survey  of  the  scenery. 

The  river  was  here  a  full  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  on 
the  opposite  shore  bluffy,  and  in  places  bold,  but,  on  the 
side  where  Phoebus  had  drifted  with  the  tide,  clutching 
his  old  scow  with  mortal  grip,  there  extended  a  point  of 
level  woods  and  marsh  or  "  cripple,"  as  if  by  the  action 
of  some  back-water,  and  this  low  ground  appeared  to 
have  a  considerable  area,  and  was  nowhere  tilled  or 
fenced,  or  gave  any  signs  of  being  visited. 

But  the  opposite  or  northern  shore  was  quite  other 
wise  ;  there  the  river  had  a  wide  bend  or  hollow  to  re 
ceive  two  considerable  creeks,  and  changed  its  course 
almost  abruptly  from  west  to  southwest,  giving  a  grand 
view  of  its  wide  bosom  for  the  distance  of  more  than  two 
miles  into  Maryland  ;  and  the  prospect  was  closed  in 
that  direction  by  a  whitish-looking  something,  like  lime  or 

1*8 


274  THfc    ENTAILED    HAT. 

shell  piles,  standing  against  the  background  of  pale  blue 
woods  and  bluffs. 

Right  opposite  the  spot  where  Phoebus  had  been 
stranded,  a  cleared  farm  came  out  to  the  Nanticoke,  af 
fording  a  front  of  only  a  single  field,  on  the  crest  of  a 
considerable  sand-bluff — elevations  looking  magnified 
here,  where  nature  is  so  level ;  and  at  one  end  of  this 
field,  which  was  planted  in  corn  that  was  now  clinging 
dry  to  the  naked  stalks,  an  old  lane  descended  to  a  shell- 
paved  wharf  of  a  stumpy,  square  form  ;  and  almost  at  the 
other,  or  western,  end  of  the  clearing  stood  a  respectable 
farm-house  of  considerable  age,  with  a  hipped  roof  and 
three  queer  dormer  windows  slipping  down  the  steeper  half 
below,  and  two  chimneys,  not  built  outside  of  the  house, 
as  was  the  general  fashion,  but  naturally  rising  out  of  the 
old  English-brick  gables.  All  between  the  gables  was 
built  of  wood  ;  a  porch  of  one  story  occupied  nearly  half 
the  centre  of  that  side  of  the  house  facing  the  river ;  and 
to  the  right,  against  the  house  and  behind  it,  were  kitch 
en,  smoke-house,  corn-cribs,  and  other  low  tenements,  in 
picturesque  medley;  while  to  the  left  crouched  an  old, 
low  building  on  the  water's  edge,  looking  like  a  brandy- 
still  or  a  small  warehouse.  The  road  from  the  wharf  and 
lane  passed  along  a  beach,  and  partly  through  the  river 
water,  to  enter  a  gate  between  this  shed  and  the  dwell 
ing  ;  and  from  the  garden  or  lawn,  on  the  bluff  before  the 
latter,  arose  two  tall  and  elegant  trees,  a  honey-locust 
and  a  stalwart  mulberry. 

"Now,  I  never  been  by  this  place  before,"  Jimmy  Phoe 
bus  muttered,  "but,  by  smoke!  yon  house  looks  to  me 
like  Betty  Twiford's  wharf,  an',  to  save  my  life,  I  can't 
help  thinkin'  yon  white  spots  down  this  side  of  the  river 
air  Sharptown.  If  that's  the  case,  which  state  am  I  in  ?" 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  bailed  the  scow,  which  was  nearly 
full  of  water,  and  began  to  paddle  along  the  shore,  and, 
seeing  something  white,  he  landed  and  parted  the  bushes, 


TWIFORD  S    ISLAND.  275 

and  found  it  to  be  a  stone  of  a  bluish  marble,  bearing  on 
one  side  the  letter  M,  and  on  the  other  the  letter  P,  and 
a  royal  crown  was  also  carved  upon  it. 

"  Yer's  one  o'  Lord  Baltimore's  boundary  stones,"  Phoe 
bus  exclaimed.  "  Now  see  the  rascality  o'  them  kid 
nappers  !  Yon  house,  I  know,  is  Twiford's,  because  it's 
a'most  on  the  state-line,  but,  I'm  ashamed  to  say,  it's  a 
leetle  in  Maryland.  And  that  lane,  coming  down  to  the 
wharf,  is  my  way  to  Joe  Johnson's  Pangymonum  at  his 
cross-roads." 

A  sound,  as  of  some  one  singing,  seemed  to  come  from 
the  woods  near  by,  and  Phoebus,  listening,  concluded  that 
it  was  farther  along  the  water,  so  he  paddled  softly  for 
ward  till  a  small  cove  or  pool  led  up  into  the  swamp,  and 
its  shores  nowhere  offered  a  dry  landing ;  yet  there  were 
recent  foot-marks  deeply  trodden  in  the  bog,  and  disclosed 
up  the  slope  into  the  woods,  and  from  their  direction 
seemed  to  come  the  mysterious  chanting. 

"  My  head's  bloody  and  I'm  wet  as  a  musk-rat,  so  I  reck 
on  I  ain't  afraid  of  gittin'  a  little  muddy,"  and  with  this  the 
navigator  stepped  from  the  scow  in  swamp  nearly  to  his 
middle,  and  pulled  himself  up  the  slope  by  main  strength. 

"  I  believe  my  soul  this  yer  is  a  island,"  Jimmy  re 
marked;  "a  island  surrounded  with  mud,  that's  wuss.to 
git  to  than  a  water  island." 

The  tall  trees  increased  in  size  as  he  went  on  and  en 
tered  a  noble  grove  of  pines,  through  whose  roar,  like  an 
organ  accompanied  by  a  human  voice,  the  singing  was 
heard  nearer  and  nearer,  and,  following  the  track  of  pre 
vious  feet,  which  had  almost  made  a  path,  Phoebus  came 
to  a  space  where  an  axe  had  laid  the  smaller  bushes 
low  around  a  large  loblolly  pine  that  spread  its  branches 
like  a  roof  only  a  few  feet  from  the  ground ;  and  there, 
fastened  by  a  chain  to  the  trunk,  which  allowed  her  to  go 
around  and  around  the  tree,  and  tread  a  nearly  bare  place 
in  the  pine  droppings  or  "  shats,"  sat  a  black  woman, 


276  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

singing  in  a  long,  weary,  throat-sore  wail.    Jimmy  listened 
to  a  few  lines  : 

"  Deep-en  cle  woun'  dy  ban's  have  made 

In  clis  weak,  helpless  soul, 
Till  mercy  wid  its  mighty  aid 
De-seen  to  make  me  whole  ; 

Yes,  Lord  ! 
De-seen  to  make  me  whole." 

A  little  negro  child,  perhaps  three  years  old,  was  lying 
asleep  on  the  ground  at  the  woman's  feet,  in  an  old  tat 
tered  gray  blanket  that  might  have  been  discarded  from 
a  stable.  Near  the  child  was  a  wooden  box,  in  which 
were  a  coarse  loaf  of  corn-bread  and  some  strips  of  bacon, 
and  a  wooden  trough,  hollowed  out  of  a  log,  contained 
water.  The  woman's  face  was  scratched  and  bruised, 
and,  as  she  came  to  some  dental  sounds  in  her  chant, 
her  teeth  \vere  revealed,  with  several  freshly  missing  in 
front,  and  her  lips  were  swollen  and  the  gums  blistered 
and  raw. 

She  glanced  up  as  Phoebus  came  in  sight,  looked  at 
him  a  minute  in  blank  curiosity,  as  if  she  did  not  know 
what  kind  of  animal  he  was,  and  then  continued  her 
song,  wearily,  as  if  she  had  been  singing  it  for  days, 
and  her  mind  had  gone  into  it  and  was  out  of  her  con 
trol.  As  she  moved  her  feet  from  time  to  time,  the  chain 
rattled  upon  her  ankles. 

"Well,"  said  Jimmy,  "if  this  ain't  Pangymonum,  I 
reckon  I'll  find  it  at  Johnson's  Cross-roads  !  Git  up  thar, 
gal,  an'  let  me  see  what  ails  you." 

The  woman  rose  mechanically,  still  singing  in  the 
shrill,  cracked,  weary  drone,  and,  as  she  rose,  the  baby 
awoke  and  began  to  cry,  and  she  stooped  and  took  it  up, 
and,  patting  it  with  her  hands,  sang  on,  as  if  she  would 
fall  asleep  singing,  but  could  not. 

The  chain,  strong  and  rusty,  had  been  very  recently 
welded  to  her  feet  by  a  blacksmith;  the  fresh  rivet  at- 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND.  277 

tested  that,  and  there  were  also  pieces  of  charcoal  in  the 
pine  strewings,  as  if  fire  had  been  brought  there  for 
smith's  uses.  Jimmy  Phcebus  took  hold  of  the  chain  and 
examined  it  link  by  link  till  it  depended  from  a  powerful 
staple  driven  to  the  heart  of  the  pine-tree  ;  though  rusty,  it 
was  perfect  in  every  part,  and  the  condition  of  the  staple 
showed  that  it  was  permanently  retained  in  its  position, 
as  if  to  secure  various  and  successive  persons,  while  the 
staple  itself  had  been  driven  above  the  reach  of  the  hands, 
as  by  a  man  standing  on  some  platform  or  on  another's 
shoulders. 

Phcebus  took  the  chain  in  his  short,  powerful  arms, 
and,  giving  a  little  run  from  the  root  of  the  tree,  threw  all 
the  strength  of  his  compact,  heavy  body  into  a  jerk,  and 
let  his  weight  fall  upon  it,  but  did  not  produce  the  slight 
est  impression. 

"There's  jess  two  people  can  unfasten  this  chain,"  ex 
claimed  Jimmy,  blowing  hard  and  kneading  his  palms, 
after  two  such  exertions,  "  one  of  em's  a  blacksmith  and 
t'other' s  a  woodchopper.  Gal,  how  did  you  git  yer?" 

The  woman,  a  young  and  once  comely  person  of  about 
twenty-eight  years  of  age,  sang  on  a  moment  as  if  she 
did  not  understand  the  question,  till  Phcebus  repeated  it 
with  a  kinder  tone  : 

"  Pore,  abused  creatur,  tell  me  as  your  friend  !  I  ain't 
none  of  these  kidnappers.  Git  your  pore,  scattered  wits 
together  an'  tell  a  friend  of  all  women  an'  little  childern 
how  he  kin  help  you,  fur  time's  worth  a  dollar  a  second, 
an'  bloody  vultures  are  nigh  by.  Speak,  Mary  !" 

The  universal  name  seemed  timely  to  this  \yoman  ;  she 
stopped  her  chanting  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  My  husband  brought  me  here,"  she  said,  between  her 
long  sobs.  "  He  sold  me.  I  give  him  everything  I  had 
and  loved  him,  too,  and  he  sold  me — me  and  my  baby." 

"  I  reckon  you  don't  belong  fur  down  this  way,  Mary  ? 
You  don't  talk  like  it." 


278  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  belong  to  Philadelphia.  I  was  a  free 
woman  and  a  widow;  my  husband  left  me  a  little  money 
and  a  little  house  and  this  child  ;  another  man  come  and 
courted  me,  a  han'some  mulatto  man,  almost  as  white  as 
you.  He  told  me  he  had  a  farm  in  Delaware,  and  want 
ed  me  to  be  his  wife  ;  he  promised  me  so  much  and 
was  so  anxious  about  it,  that  I  listened  to  him.  Oh,  he 
was  a  beautiful  talker,  and  I  was  lonesome  and  wanted 
love.  I  let  him  sell  my  house  and  give  him  the  money, 
and  started  a  week  ago  to  come  to  my  new  home.  Oh, 
he  did  deceive  me  so;  he  said  he  loved  me  dearly." 

She  began  to  cry  again,  and  her  mind  seemed  to  wan 
der,  for  the  next  sentence  was  disconnected.  Jimmy 
took  the  baby  in  his  arms  and  kissed  it  without  any  scru 
ples,  and  the  child's  large,  black  eyes  looked  into  his  as 
if  he  might  be  its  own  father,  while  he  dandled  it  tenderly. 

"  The  foxes  has  come  an'  barked  at  me  two  nights," 
said  the  woman  ;  "  they  wanted  the  bacon,  I  'spect.  The 
water-snakes  has  crawled  around  here  in  the  daytime, 
and  the  buzzards  flew  right  down  before  me  and  looked 
up,  as  if  they  thought  I  ought  to  be  dead.  But  I  wasn't 
afraid  :  that  man  I  give  my  love  to  was  so  much  worse 
than  them,  that  I  just  sung  and  let  them  look  at  me." 

"You  say  he  sold  you,  Mary?" 

The  woman  rubbed  her  weary  eyes  and  slowly  recol 
lected  where  she  had  left  off. 

"  We  moved  our  things  on  a  vessel  to  Delaware,  and 
come  up  a  creek  to  a  little  town  in  the  marshes,  and  there 
we  started  for  my  husband's  farm.  He  said  we  had  come 
to  it  in  the  night.  I  couldn't  tell,  but  I  saw  a  house  in 
the  woods,  and  was  so  tired  I  went  to  sleep  with  my  baby 
there,  and  in  the  night  I  found  men  in  the  room,  and  one 
of  them,  a  white  man,  was  tying  my  feet." 

A  crow  cawed  with  a  sound  of  awe  in  the  pine  tops, 
and  squirrels  were  running  tamely  all  round  about  as  she 
hesitated. 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND. 


279 


"  I  thought  then  of  the  kidnappers  of  Delaware,  for  I 
had  heard  about  them,  and  I  jumped  out  of  bed  and 
fought  for  my  life.  They  knocked  me  clown  and  the  rope 
around  my  feet  tripped  me  up  ;  but  I  fought  with  my  teeth 
after  my  hands  was  tied,  too,  and  I  bit  that  white  man's 
knees,  and  then  he  picked  up  a  fire-shovel,  or  something 
of  iron,  and  knocked  my  teeth  out.  My  last  hope  was  al 
most  gone  when  I  saw  my  husband  coming  in,  and  I  cried 
to  him,  *  Save  me  !  save  me,  darling  !'  He  had  a  rope  in 
his  hand,  and,  before  I  could  understand  it,  he  had  slipped 
it  over  my  neck  and  choked  me." 

"  Your  own  husband  ?  I  can't  believe  it,  to  save  my 
life !" 

"  I  didn't  believe  it,  neither,  till  I  heard  him  say,  when 
they  loosened  the  slip-knot  that  had  strangled  me — the 
voice  was  his  I  had  trusted  so  much  ;  I  never  could  for 
get  it ! — '  Eben,'  he  said,  *  I've  took  down  every  mole  and 
spot  on  her  body  and  can  swear  to  'em,  for  I've  learned 
'em  by  heart,  and  you  won't  have  no  trouble  a-sellin'  her, 
as  she  can't  testify." 

"  The  imp  of  Pangymonum  !"  Jimmy  cried.  "  He  had 
married  you  to  note  down  your  marks,  and  by  'em  swear 
you  to  be  a  slave  !" 

"  The  white  man  tried  to  sell  me  to  a  farmer,  and  then 
I  told  what  I  had  heard  them  say.  He  believed  me,  and 
told  them  the  mayor  of  Philadelphia  had  a  reward  out 
for  them,  for  kidnappin'  free  people,  already.  Then  they 
talked  together — a  little  scared  they  was — and  tied  me 
again,  and  brought  me  on  a  cart  through  the  woods  to 
the  river  and  fetched  me  here,  and  chained  me,  and  told 
me  if  I  ever  said  I  was  free,  to  another  man,  they  meant 
to  sell  my  baby  and  to  drown  me  in  the  river." 

She  finished  with  a  chilly  tremor  and  a  low  wail  like 
an  infant,  but  the  sailor  passed  her  baby  into  her  arms  to 
engage  her,  and  said  : 

"The  Lord  is   still,  a-countin'  of  his  sparrows,  or  I 


280  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

wouldn't  have  been  on  this  arrand,  by  smoke !  To  drift 
yer,  hangin'  senseless  to  that  ole  scow,  must  have  been  to 
save  you,  Mary.  This  is  a  island  where  they  chains  up 
property,  I  reckon,  that  is  bein'  follered  up  too  close. 
Time's  very  precious,  Mary,  but  I've  got  a  sailor's  knife 
yer,  an'  I'll  stay  to  cut  the  staple  out  o'  this  ole  pine  if 
they  come  an'  kill  me.  You  take  an'  wash  my  face  off 
outen  that  water-trough  while  I  bite  a  bit  of  the  bacon." 

He  took  the  child  again  and  amused  it  while  the  wom 
an  carefully  cleaned  his  wound  and  rebandaged  it  so  that 
he  could  breathe  and  see  and  eat,  though  the  cotton  folds 
wrapped  in  much  of  his  face  like  a  mask.  He  then  ex 
amined  the  chain  again,  especially  where  it  was  rivetted 
at  the  feet,  and  lifted  a  large  iron  ball  weighing  several 
pounds,  which  was  also  affixed  to  her  ankle,  so  that  she 
could  not  climb  the  tree.  Her  ankle  he  found  blistered 
by  the  red-hot  rivet  being  smithed  so  barbarously  close 
to  the  flesh. 

"  Don't  leave  me,  oh  !  don't  leave  me  here  to  die,"  the 
woman  pleaded,  as  he  started  into  the  woods. 

"  I'll  stay  by  you  an'  we'll  die  together,  if  we  must;  but 
it's  not  my  idee  to  die  at  all,  Mary.  I'm  goin'  to  bring 
that  air  scow  ashore  while  I  cut  a  hickory,  if  I  can  find 
one,  to  break  this  yer  chain." 

Plunging  again  into  the  mud  nearly  to  his  waist,  Phce- 
bus  pulled  the  scow  up  into  the  woods,  and  had  barely 
concealed  himself  when  he  saw  come  out  of  the  creek 
below  Twiford's  house  a  cat-boat  like  the  Ellenora  Den 
nis,  and  stand  towards  the  island  in  the  cripple. 

"  The  tide's  agin  'em,  an'  they  must  make  a  tack  to  get 
yer,"  Jimmy  muttered  ;  "  but  I'm  afraid  this  knife  will 
have  to  go  to  the  heart  of  some  son  of  Pangymonum  in 
ten  minutes,  or  Ellenory  Dennis  never  agin  be  pestered 
by  her  ugly  lover." 

He  was  seized  with  a  certain  frenzy  of  strength  and 
discernment  at  the  danger  he  was  in,  and,  as  he  carried 


28l 

the  scow  onward  and  across  the  woodland  island,  heavy 
as  it  was,  he  also  noted  a  single  small  hickory  tree  on 
that  farther  margin,  and  threw  himself  against  it  and  bent 
it  down,  and  plunged  his  knife  into  the  straining  fibres 
so  that  it  crackled  and  splintered  in  his  hand.  He  leaped 
to  the  tree  and  scaled  it  as  he  had  often  climbed  a  mast, 
and  he  thrust  the  sapling  under  the  staple,  trimming  the 
point  down  with  the  knife  as  he  clutched  the  tree  by  his 
knees,  and  then,  catching  the  young  hickory  like  a  lever, 
he  dropped  down  the  pine  trunk  and  got  his  shoulder  un 
der  the  sapling  and  brought  the  weight  of  his  body  des 
perately  against  it.  The  staple  bent  upward  in  the  tree, 
but  did  not  loosen. 

At  that  instant  the  scraping  of  a  boat  upon  the  mud 
was  heard,  and  the  black  woman  fell  upon  her  knees. 

"  Pray,  but  do  it  soft,"  Jimmy  whispered  ;  "  an'  not  a 
cry  from  the  child,  or  there'll  be  a  murder  !" 

He  had  rapidly  trimmed  the  hickory  stem  of  its  branch 
es  while  he  spoke,  so  that  it  could  penetrate  the  arborage 
of  the  tree  from  above,  and  climbing  higher,  like  a  cat,  he 
worked  the  point  of  the  lever  downwards  into  the  now 
crooked  staple,  and  threw  himself  out  of  the  tree  against 
the  sapling,  which  bent  like  a  bow  nearly  double,  but 
would  not  break,  and,  as  the  staple  yielded  and  flew  out, 
the  chain  and  the  deliverer  fell  together  on  the  soft  pine 
litter. 

"  Hark  !"  exclaimed  a  voice  through  the  woods. 

"  What  was  it  ?"  asked  another  voice. 

"  Come !"  Phcebus  murmured,  and  gathered  together 
the  woman,  the  child,  and  the  chain  and  ball,  and  stepped, 
long  and  silent  as  a  rabbit's  leaps,  through  the-  awe- 
hushed  pines,  carrying  the  whole  burden  on  his  shoul 
ders. 

He  sat  them  in  the  scow,  which  sank  to  the  edges,  and, 
covered  by  a  protruding  point  of  woods,  pushed  off  into 
the  deep  river,  yet  guiding  the  frail  vessel  in  to  the  sides 


282  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

of  the  stream,  away  from  the  influence  of  the  out-running 
tide.  As  the  scow  turned  the  first  crease  or  elbow  in  the 
river,  it  began  to  sink. 

"  If  you  make  a  sound  you  are  a  slave  fur  life,"  whis 
pered  the  waterman,  as  he  slipped  overboard  and  began 
to  swim,  with  his  hand  upon  the  stern.  As  he  did  this, 
straining  every  muscle  of  his  countenance  to  keep  afloat, 
the  wound  in  his  cheek  began  to  bleed  again,  and  he  felt 
his  strength  going.  Down,  down  he  began  to  settle,  till 
the  water  reached  his  nostrils,  and  the  woman  heard  him 
sigh  as  he  was  sinking : 

"  I'd  do  it — an'  die — agin — fur — Ellenory.  God  bless 
her !" 

The  scow,  now  full  of  water,  turned  upside  down,  and 
threw  mother  and  child  into  the  stream,  and  the  child 
was  gone  beneath  the  surface  before  the  woman  could 
catch  herself  upon  a  sunken  branch  of  an  imbedded  tree ; 
and,  as  she  gasped  there,  the  body  of  the  pungy  captain 
swept  past  her  and  she  caught  him  by  the  hair,  and  he 
clutched  her  with  the  drowning  instinct,  and  down  they 
went  together,  like  husband  and  wife,  in  nature's  con 
tempt  of  distinctions  between  living  worms. 

They  went  down  to  the  very  bottom, but  not  to  drown; 
for  the  old  tree,  having  fallen  where  it  grew  in  other  years, 
was  sustained  upon  its  limbs,  and  made  an  invisible  yet 
sure  pathway  to  the  shore.  The  long  chain  and  the  iron 
ball  fettered  to  the  colored  woman's  foot,  however,  de 
prived  her  for  a  few  moments  of  all  power  to  step  along 
the  slippery,  submerged  trunk,  and,  with  her  soul  full  of 
agony  for  her  child,  which  she  no  longer  saw,  she  was 
about  to  let  go  of  her  deliverer's  body  and  throw  herself 
also  into  the  river,  to  die  with  them,  when  the  old  scow, 
having  emptied  itself  of  the  water,  reappeared  at  the  sur 
face  and  struck  the  woman  a  buoyant  blow  that  altered 
the  course  of  her  thought. 

"  Pore,  brave  man,"  the  woman  gasped.     "  He's  got  a 


TWIFORD'S  ISLAND.  283 

wife,  maybe.  He  said, '  God  bless  her,'  an'  he  give  his 
life  for  a  poor  creature  like  me.  God  has  took  my  baby. 
I  can't  do  nothing  for  it  now,  but  maybe  I  can  save  this 
man's  life  before  I  die." 

Indifferent  to  her  personal  fate,  she  drew  intelligence 
from  her  spirit  of  sacrifice,  which  is  the  only  thing  better 
than  learning.  She  pushed  the  scow  clown  and  under 
Phoebus  with  her  remaining  hand,  till  it  relieved  her  of 
a  portion  of  the  weight  of  his  body,  and  rose  up,  half- 
bearing  the  bronze-faced  sailor's  form,  and  animating  her 
generous  purpose  with  the  honest  and  happy  smile  he 
wore  upon  his  face,  even  in  the  vestibule  of  the  eternal 
palace.  Then,  gathering  the  long  meshes  of  the  iron 
chain  up  from  its  termination  at  her  feet,  she  threw  the 
longer  portion  of  it  into  the  scow,  so  that  it  no  longer  be 
came  entangled  in  the  cross-branches  and  knots  below, 
and  she  could  lift  also  the  iron  ball  sufficiently  to  glide 
her  feet  along  the  tree. 

With  pain  and  difficulty,  lessened  by  self-forgetfulness, 
she  pushed  the  scow  and  the  body  to  the  foot  of  the  tree, 
and,  feeling  around  its  old  roots  for  further  support,  the 
red-eyed  terrapins  arose  and  swam  around  her,  disturbed 
in  their  possessions  ;  but  she  feared  no  reptiles  any  more, 
since  Death,  the  mighty  crocodile,  had  eaten  the  babe  that 
she  had  nursed  but  this  morning. 

She  had  intelligent  remembrance  enough  to  think  of 
all  the  precautions  her  deliverer  had  taken,  and,  when 
she  had  dragged  his  body  on  the  shore  into  the  dense, 
scrubby  woods,  she  also  drew  out  the  little  scow  and 
heaped  some  dead  brush  upon  it,  and  had  scarcely  con 
cealed  herself  when  she  heard  voices  from  the  river,  and 
the  report  of  a  sail  swung  around  upon  its  boom,  and  of 
feet  upon  a  deck.  The  voices  said : 

"If  she's  got  off  to  Delaware,  Joe  Johnson  won't  have 
long  to  stay  on  his  visit ;  for  all  the  beaks  will  gather  fur 
him  an'  be  started  by  John  M.  Clayton." 


284  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  I'm  sorry  fur  Joe,"  answered  another  voice  ;  "  he 
hoped  to  make  one  more  big  scoop  this  trip,  an'  quit  the 
Corners  fur  good." 

"  Let  us  sail  by  ole  Ebenezer  Johnson's  roost  at  Broad 
Creek  mouth,  an'  peep  up  both  forks  of  the  river,"  said 
the  other  voice,  receding ;  "  it's  only  a  mile  and  a  half. 
If  we  discover  nothin',  we'll  run  down  the  river  and  in 
quire  at  the  landings  as  fur  as  Vienny." 

The  colored  woman  now  worked  with  all  her  strength 
to  revive  the  insensible  sailor,  rolling  him,  rubbing  his 
body  till  her  elbows  seemed  almost  to  be  dropping  off, 
and  then  rubbing  his  great,  broad  breast  with  her  head 
and  face  and  neck.  She  breathed  into  his  mouth  the 
breath  heaven  vouchsafed  to  Hagar  as  bountifully  as  to 
Sarah,  and,  wringing  out  portions  of  her  garments  and 
hanging  them  at  sunny  exposures  to  dry,  she  substituted 
them,  in  her  exhausted  intervals,  for  the  wet  clothing  of 
the  man  •  and  as  she  worked,  with  a  hollow,  desolate 
heart,  she  sobbed  : 

"Lord,  gi'  me  this  man's  life!  O  Lord,  that  took  my 
chile,  I  will  have  this  life  back !" 

Crying  and  weeping,  fainting  and  laboring,  the  mo 
ments,  it  seemed  the  very  hours,  ran  by  and  still  he  did 
not  waken  ;  and  still,  with  all  that  noble  strength  that 
makes  the  fields  of  white  men  grow  and  blossom  under 
the  negro's  unthanked  toil,  the  widow  and  childless  one 
fought  on  for  this  cold  lump  of  brother  nature. 

He  warmed,  he  breathed,  he  groaned,  he  spoke  ! 

His  voice  was  like  a  happy  sigh,  as  of  one  disturbed 
near  the  end  of  a  comforting  morning  nap  in  summer : 

"You  thar,  Mary?" 

He  stared  around  with  difficulty,  his  wounded  face  now 
clotted  and  stained  with  blood,  and  his  eyes  next  looked 
an  inquiry  so  kind  and  apprehensive  that  she  answered 
it,  to  save  him  breath  : 

"  Baby's  drowned.     God  does  best !" 


OLD   CHIMNEYS.  285 

He  reached  his  hand  to  hers — she  was  almost  naked 
to  the  waist,  having  sacrificed  all  she  had,  the  greatest  of 
which  was  modesty,  to  bring  back  that  life  in  him  which 
came  naked  and  unashamed  into  the  world — and  he  put 
his  little  strength  into  the  grasp. 

"  Mary,"  he  exhaled,  "  why  didn't  you  ketch  the  baby 
and  leave  me  go?" 

"Oh,  dearly  as  I  loved  it,"  the  woman  answered,  "]'m 
glad  you  come  up  under  my  hands  instead.  You  can  do 
good :  you're  a  white  man.  Baby  would  have  only  been 
a  poor  slave,  or  a  free  negro  nobody  would  care  for." 

"I  mean  to  do  good,  if  the  Lord  lets  me,"  sighed  the 
sailor;  "  I  mean  to  go  and  die  agin  for  human  natur  at 
Johnson's  Cross-roads." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OLD     CHIMNEYS. 

THE  day  was  far  advanced  when  Jimmy  Phcebus  was 
strong  enough  to  rise  and  walk,  and  leave  the  refuge  in 
the  woods.  He  advised  the  colored  woman  to  crawl 
through  the  pine-trees  along  the  margin,  while  he  paddled 
in  the  old  scow  in  the  shadow  of  the  forest,  which  now 
lay  strong  upon  the  river's  breast. 

At  the  distance  of  about  a  mile,  Broad  Creek,  like  a 
tributary  river,  flowed  into  the  Nanticoke  from  the  east, 
fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  and  half  a  mile  up  this 
stream  an  old,  low,  extended,  weather-blackened  house 
faced  the  river,  and  seemed  to  grin  out  of  its  broken  ribs 
and  hollow  window-sockets  like  a  traitor's  skull  discol 
ored  upon  a  gibbet.  It  was  falling  to  pieces,  and  along 
its  roof-ridge  a  line  of  crows  balanced  and  croaked,  as 
if  they  had  fine  stories  to  tell  and  weird  opinions  to  pass 
upon  the  former  inhabitants  of  the  tenement. 


286  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"There,  I  have  hearn  tell,"  said  Jimmy,  as  he  drew  in 
to  the  bank,  and  took  the  woman  into  the  scow  and  began 
to  tow  her  along  the  beach,  wading  in  the  water,  "  there, 
I  have  hearn  tell,  lived  the  pirate  of  Broad  Creek,  ole 
Ebenezer  Johnson,  who  was  shot  soon  after  the  war  of 
'12  at  Twiford's  house  down  yonder." 

"  For  kidnapping  free  people  ?"  asked  the  woman,  with 
out  interest,  the  question  coming  from  her  desolate  heart. 

"In  them  days  they  didn't  kidnap  much;  it  was  jest 
a-beginnin'.  The  war  of  '12  busted  everything  on  the 
bay,  burned  half  a  dozen  towns,  kept  the  white  men  lay- 
in'  out  an'  watchin',  and  made  loafers  of  half  of 'em,  an' 
brought  bad  volunteers  an'  militia  yer  to  trifle  with  the 
porer  gals,  an'  some  of  them  strangers  stuck  yer  after  the 
war  was  clone.  I  don't  know  whar  ole  Ebenezer  come 
from  ;  some  says  this,  an'  some  that.  All  we  know  is, 
that  he  an'  the  Hanlen  gals,  one  of  'em  Patty  Cannon, 
was  the  head  devils  in  an'  after  the  war." 

"It's  a  bad-lookin'  ole  house,  sir.  See,  yonder's  a 
coon  runnin'  out  of  the  door.  Oh  !  I  hear  my  child  cry- 
in'  everywhere  I  look." 

"  The  British  begun  to  run  the  black  people  off  in  the 
war.  The  black  people  wanted  to  go  to  'em.  The  Brit 
ish  filled  the  islands  in  Tangier  yer  with  nigger  camps; 
they  was  a  goin'  to  take  this  whole  peninsuly,  an'  collect 
an'  drill  a  nigger  army  on  it  to  put  down  Amerikey. 
When  the  war  was  done,  the  British  sailed  away  from 
Chesapeake  Bay  with  thousands  of  them  colored  folks, 
an'  then  the  people  yer  begun  to  hate  the  free  niggers." 

"  For  lovin'  liberty?"  the  woman  sighed,  looking  at  the 
ball,  which  had  galled  her  ankle  bloody. 

"They  hated  free  niggers  as  if  they  was  all  Tories  an' 
didn't  love  Amerikey.  So,  seein'  the  free  niggers  hadn't 
no  friends,  these  Johnsons  an'  Patty  Cannon  begun  to 
steal  'em,  by  smoke!  There  was  only  a  million  niggers 
in  the  whole  country;  Louisiana  was  a-roarin' for  'em; 


OLD    CHIMNEYS.  287 

every  nigger  was  wuth  twenty  horses  or  thirty  yokes  of 
oxen,  or  two  good  farms  around  yer,  an'  these  kidnappers 
made  money  like  smoke,  bought  the  lawyers,  went  into 
polytics,  an'  got  sech  a  high  hand  that  they  tried  a  mur- 
derin'  of  the  nigger  traders  from  Georgey  an'  down  thar, 
comin'  yer  full  of  gold  to  buy  free  people.  That  give  'em 
a  back-set,  an'  they  hung  some  of  Patty's  band — some  at 
Georgetown,  some  at  Cambridge.'' 

"  If  my  baby's  made  white  in  heaven,  I'm  afraid  I 
won't  know  him,"  the  woman  said,  nodding,  and  wander 
ing  in  her  mind. 

"  At  last  the  Delawareans  marched  on  Johnson's  Cross 
roads  an'  cleaned  his  Pangymonum  thar  out,  an'  guarded 
him,  and  sixteen  pore  niggers  in  chains  he'd  kidnapped, 
to  Georgetown  jail.  Young  John  M.  Clayton  was  paid 
by  the  Phildelfy  Quakers  to  git  him  convicted.  Johnson 
was  strong  in  the  county — we're  in  it  now,  Sussex — an' 
if  Clayton  hadn't  skeered  the  jury  almost  to  death,  it 
would  have  disagreed.  He  held  'em  over  bilin'  hell,  an' 
clipped  'em  thar  till  the  court-room  was  like  a  Methodis' 
revival  meetin',  with  half  that  jury  cryin'  '  Save  me,  save 
me,  Lord  !'  while  some  of  'em  had  Joe  Johnson's  money 
in  their  pockets.  Joe  was  licked  at  the  post,  banished 
from  the  state,  an'  so  skeered  that  he  laid  low  awhile, 
goin'  off  somewhar — to  Missoury,  or  Floridey,  or  Ally- 
bamy.  But  Patty  Cannon  never  flinched;  she  trained 
the  young  boys  around  yer  to  be  her  sleuth-hounds  an' 
go  stealin'  for  her ;  an',  till  she  dies,  it's  safer  to  be  a 
chicken  than  a  free  nigger.  They  stole  you,  pore  creat- 
ur'  from  Phildelfy,  an'  they  steal  'em  in  Jersey  and  away 
into  North  Carliney ;  fur  Joe  Johnson's  a  smart  feller 
fur  enterprise,  and  Patty  Cannon's  deep  as  death  an'  the 
grave." 

Phoebus  looked  at  the  woman  sitting  in  the  scow,  and 
he  saw  that  she  was  fast  asleep  ;  his  tale  having  no  power 
to  startle  her  senses,  now  worn-out  by  every  infliction. 


288  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"I  must  git  that  ball  an'  chain  off,"  the  sailor  said; 
"  but  iron,  in  these  ole  sandy  parts,  is  scarce  as  gold." 

He  lifted  her  out  of  the  scow  and  laid  her  in  the  shade, 
and  began  to  explore  the  old  house.  To  his  joy,  he  found 
the  iron  crane  still  hanging  in  the  chimney,  and  signs  of 
recent  fire. 

"These  yer  ole  cranes  was  valleyble  once,"  Jimmy 
said,  "an'  in  the  wills  they  left  'em  to  their  children  like 
farms,  an'  lawsuits  was  had  over  the  bilin'  pots  an'  the 
biggest  kittles.  It  broke  a  woman's  heart  to  git  a  little 
kittle  left  her,  an'  the  big-kittled  gal  was  jest  pestered 
with  beaux.  But,  by  smoke  !  we're  a-makin'  iron  now  in 
Amerikey !  Kittles  is  cheap,  and  that's  why  this  crane 
is  left  by  robbers  an'  gypsies  after  they  used  it." 

He  twisted  the  crane  out  of  the  bricks  on  which  it 
was  hinged,  and  some  of  the  mantel  jamb  fell  down. 

"Hallo!"  cried  Jimmy,  "what's  this  a  rollin'yer?  A 
shillin',  by  George  !  I  say,  by  George,  this  time  caze  ole 
George  the  Third's  picter's  on  it.  Maybe  thar's  more  of 
'em." 

He  pulled  a  few  bricks  out  of  the  jamb,  and  raked  the 
hollow  space  inside  with  his  hand,  and  brought  forth  a 
steel  purse  of  English  manufacture,  filled  with  shillings 
at  one  end,  and  fifteen  golden  guineas  at  the  other ;  they 
rolled  out  through  the  decayed  filigree,  rusted,  probably, 
by  the  rain  percolating  through  the  chimney,  and  the 
purse  crumbled  to  iron-mould  in  his  hand. 

"  '  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,' "  said  the  sailor,  rever 
ently  ;  " '  I  shall  not  want.  He  leadeth  me  by  the  still 
waters.'  How  beautiful  Ellenory  says  it.  Look  thar  at 
the  waters  of  the  Nanticoke,  beautiful  as  silver.  Lord, 
make  'em  pure  waters  an'  free,  to  every  pore  creatur  !" 

"  To  who  !  to  who  !"  screamed  a  voice  out  of  the  hol 
low  chimney. 

"  Well,"  answered  Jimmy,  hardly  excited,  "  I  ain't  par- 
tickler.  Ha  !  I  thought  I  knew  you,  Barney,"  he  contin- 


OLD   CHIMNEYS.  289 

lied,  as   an   owl  fluttered  out   and  hopped  up  a  ruined 
stairway. 

"  Now,  British  money  ain't  coined  by  Uncle  Sam ; 
what  is  the  date  ?  I  can  make  figgers  out  easy  :  '  Eigh 
teen  hundred  and  fifteen  !'  I  was  about  to  do  Ebenezer 
Johnson  the  onjustice  of  saying  that  he'd  sold  his  coun 
try  out  to  ole  Admiral  Cockburn,  but  the  war  was  done 
when  this  money  was  coined.  Whose  was  it?" 

He  removed  more  carefully  some  of  the  bricks,  to  put 
his  hand  in  the  hollow  depository  left  there,  and,  feeling 
around  and  higher  up,  brought  out  the  bronze  hilt  of  a 
sword,  on  which  was  a  name. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  this  was  a  house  of  learn- 
in'  ?"  Jimmy  said,  dubiously.  "  I  can't  read  it.  By  smoke  ! 
maybe  they've  murdered  somebody  yer.  I  reckon  he 
was  British.  Ellenory  kin  read  it,  if  I  live  to  see  her 
agin." 

There  was  nothing  more,  and,  as  he  left  the  rotting  old 
house,  a  crash  and  a  cloud  of  smoke  rose  up  behind 
him,  and  the  chimney  fell  into  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

With  the  crane's  sharp  wrought-iron  point  and  long 
leverage  the  pungy  captain  succeeded,  after  tedious  ef 
forts,  in  breaking  the  links  of  the  chain  and  also  in  re 
moving  the  linked  cannon-ball  from  the  woman's  foot, 
but  he  could  not  remove  the  iron  band  and  link  around 
her  ankle. 

"God  bless  you  !"  exclaimed  the  woman.  "It's  a  sin 
to  say  so,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  could  fly  since  that  dreadful 
weight  is  off.  Oh,  I  want  to  fly,  for  I  dreamed  of  my 
baby,  an'  he  smiled  at  me  from  heaven  as  if  he  said, '  I'm 
happy,  mamma  !' " 

"  You  don't  owe  me  nothin',  Mary.  I  love  a  widcler, 
as  you  air,  an'  she  begged  me  to  come  yer.  When  you 
git  to  Prencess  Anne,  whar  I  want  you  to  go,  find  Elle 
nory  Dennis,  an'  tell  her  I've  seen  her  boy,  an'  I'll  bring 
him  back  if  I  kin." 

19 


2QO  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Princess  Anne?  where  is  it?" 

"  It's,  maybe,  forty  mile  from  yer,  Mary ;  half-way  be 
tween  sunrise  and  sunset." 

"  Right  south,  sir  ?" 

"  That's  it.  Now  I'll  tell  you  how  to  git  thar.  Take 
this  old  woods  road  along  Broad  Creek  and  walk  to  Lau 
rel,  five  miles ;  it's  a  little  town  on  the  creek.  Keep  in 
under  the  woods,  but  don't  lose  the  road,  fur  every  foot 
of  it's  dangerous  to  niggers.  You  kin  git  thar,  maybe, 
by  dark.  I  don't  know  nobody  thar,  Mary,  an'  I  can't 
write,  fur  I  never  learned  how.  But  you  go  right  to  the 
house  of  some  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  and  tell  him  a 
lie." 

Mary  opened  her  eyes. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  you  tell  a  lie  to  anybody  but  a  good 
man,"  continued  Phoebus,  "fur  then  it's  so  close  to  the 
Lord  it  won't  git  fur  an'  pizen  many,  as  lies  always  does. 
You  must  tell  that  preacher  that  you're  the  runaway  slave 
of  Judge  Custis  of  Prencess  Anne,  an'  you're  sorry  you 
run  away,  an'  want  to  go  home." 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  are  not  like  my  wicked  husband,  trying 
to  sell  me  too?" 

"  No,  Mary,  bad  as  you've  been  used,  faith's  your  only 
sure  friend.  If  you  was  to  tell  the  preacher  you  had  been 
kidnapped,  he'd,  maybe,  be  afraid  to  help  you.  They're 
a  timid  set  down  yer  on  any  subject  concernin'  niggers; 
these  preachers  will  help  save  black  folks'  souls,  but  nev 
er  rescue  their  pore  broken  bodies.  When  you  tell  him 
you  are  the  slave  of  a  rich  man  like  Judge  Custis,  he'll 
jump  at  the  chance  to  do  the  Judge  a  favor,  an'  tell  you 
that  you  do  right  to  go  back  to  your  master.  That's 
whair  he's  a  liar,  Mary — so  he'll  scratch  your  lie  off." 

"They'll  turn  me  back  at  Princess  Anne,  and  wont 
know  me,  maybe." 

"  Not  if  you  do  this,  Mary.  Make  them  take  you  to 
Judge  Custis's  daughter — the  one  that's  just  been  mar- 


OLD   CHIMNEYS.  2QI 

ried.  Tell  her  you  want  to  speak  to  her  privately.  Then 
tell  her  the  nigger-skinned  man — I'm  him — that  she  sent 
away  with  her  mother,  found  you  whar  you  was  chained 
in  the  woods.  Take  this  link  of  the  chain  to  show  her. 
Tell  her  you  want  to  be  her  cook  till  the  one  that  run 
away  is  found." 

"I'll  do  it,  sir.     I've  got  no  home  to  go  to,  now." 

"Tell  her  all  you  remember.  Tell  her  not  to  tell  Elle- 
nory  any  of  my  troubles.  Tell  her  I'm  a-startin'  for  Pan- 
gymonum,  an',  if  I  die,  it's  nothin'  but  a  bachelor  keepin' 
his  own  solitary  company.  Yer's  a  gold  piece  an'  three 
silver  pieces  I  found,  Mary,  to  pay  your  way.  Good 
bye." 

"  Won't  you  give  me  your  knife  ?"  asked  the  woman. 

"What  fur,  Mary?" 

u  To  kill  myself  if  they  kidnap  me  again." 

"I  have  nothin'  else  to  fight  for  my  life  with,"  said 
Phcebus.  "No,  you  must  not  do  that.  Keep  in  the 
woods  to  Laurel." 

She  fell  on  the  ground  and  kissed  his  knees,  and  bathed 
them  with  her  tears. 

"I  do  have  faith,  master,"  she  said,  "  faith  enough  to 
be  your  slave." 

"  I'd  cry  a  little,  too,"  said  Jimmy,  twitching  his  eyes,  as 
the  woman  disappeared  in  the  forest,  "  if  I  knowecl  how 
to  do  it ;  but,  by  smoke !  the  wind  on  the  bay's  dried  up 
my  tear  ponds.  I'll  bury  these  curiosities  right  yer,  with 
this  chain  and  ball,  and  put  some  old  bricks  around  'em 
outen  the  chimney  they  come  from." 

He  dug  a  hole  with  his  knife,  carefully  cutting  out  a 
piece  of  the  sod,  and  restoring  it  over  the  buried  arti 
cles  ;  and,  after  notching  some  trees  to  mark  the  place, 
he  pushed  in  the  scow  again  into  Broad  Creek,  and  de 
scended  the  Nanticoke  on  the  falling  tide  to  Twiford's 
wharf. 

Dragging  the  scow  up  the  bed  of  a  creek  to  conceal  it, 


292    .  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

he  discovered  another  boundary  stone.  A  beach  led  un 
der  the  cover  of  a  sandy  bluff  to  the  river  gate  of  Twi- 
ford's  comfortable  house,  and  he  boldly  entered  the  lane 
and  lawn,  saying  to  himself: 

"  I  reckon  a  feller  can  ask  to  buy  one  squar  meal  a  day 
in  a  free  country,  fur  I'm  hungry." 

Even  in  that  day  the  house  was  probably  seventy  years 
old,  roofed  by  an  artistic  shingler  in  lines  like  old  lace- 
work,  the  short  roofs  over  the  three  pretty  dormers  like 
laced  bib-aprons,  the  window-casements  in  small  checkers 
of  dark  glass,  the  roof  capacious  as  an  armadillo's  back 
or  land-turtle's ;  but  half  of  it  was  almost  as  straight  as  the 
walls,  and  the  small,  foreign  bricks  in  the  gables,  glazed 
black  and  dark-red  alternately,  were  laid  by  conscien 
tious  workmen,  and  bade  fair  to  stand  another  hundred 
years,  as  they  smoked  their  tidy  chimney  pipes  from 
hearty  stomachs  of  fireplaces  below. 

Standing  beneath  the  honey-locust  tree  at  the  lawn- 
gate,  the  sailor  beheld  an  extensive  prospect  of  the  river 
Nanticoke,  bending  in  a  beautiful  curve,  like  the  rim  of  a 
silver  salver,  towards  the  south,  the  blue  perspective  of 
the  surrounding  woods  fading  into  the  azure  bluffs  on  the 
farther  shore,  where,  as  he  now  identified  it,  the  hamlet 
of  Sharptown  assumed  the  mystery  and  similitude  of  a 
city  by  the  enchantment  of  distance.  A  large  brig  was 
riding  up  the  river  under  the  afternoon  breeze,  carrying 
the  English  flag  at  her  spanker.  The  wild-fowl,  flying  in 
V-formed  lines,  like  Hyads  astray,  flickered  on  the  salver 
of  the  river  like  house-flies.  Some  fishermen  distantly 
appeared,  human,  yet  nearly  stationary,  as  if  to  enliven  a 
dream,  and  the  bees  in  a  row  of  hives  kept  murmuring 
near  by,  increasing  the  restful  sense  in  the  heart  and  the 
ears. 

"Why  cannot  human  natur  be  happy  yer,  pertickler 
with  its  gal — some  one  like  Ellenory?"  Phoebus  thought; 
"why  must  it  git  cruel  an'  desperate  for  money,  lookin' 


OLD    CHIMNEYS.  *     293 

out. on  this  clancin'  water,  an'  want  to  turn  this  trance  into 
a  Pangymonum  ?" 

He  crossed  the  lane  to  a  squatty  old  structure  of  brick 
by  the  water-side,  and  peeped  in. 

"  A  still,  by  smoke  !"  he  said.  "  If  it  ain't  apple  brandy 
may  I  forgit  my  compass  !  No,  it's  peach  brandy.  Well, 
anyway,  it's  hot  enough ;  an'  this,  I  'specr,  is  what  started 
the  Pangymonum." 

He  took  a  stout  drink,  and  it  revived  his  weakened  sys 
tem,  and  he  bathed  his  head  in  its  strong  alcohol.  He 
then  returned  to  the  lawn  and  walked  around  the  house, 
peeping  into  the  lower  rooms — of  which  there  were  two 
in  the  main  building,  the  kitchen  being  an  appendage — 
but  saw  nobody.  The  porch  in  the  rear  extended  the  full 
width  of  the  house,  unlike  the  smaller  shed  in  front,  which 
only  covered  two  doors,  standing  curiously  side  by  side. 

Completely  sheltered  by  the  longer  porch,  Phoebus, 
looking  into  a  window,  there  saw  a  table  already  set  with 
a  clean  cloth,  and  bread  and  cold  chicken,  and  a  pitcher 
of  creamy  milk,  with  a  piece  of  ice  floating  in  it.  On 
either  side  of  a  large  fireplace  at  the  table-side  was  a 
door,  one  open,  and  leading  by  a  small  winding  stair  to 
the  floor  above.  A  bed  was  also  in  the  room,  which 
looked  out  by  one  window  upon  the  lawn  and  the  river, 
and  by  the  other  at  the  farm,  the  corn-cribs,  and  the  small 
barns  and  pound-yard. 

With  a  sailor's  quiet,  sliding  feet,  Jimmy  walked  into 
the  low  hall,  and  a  cat-bird,  in  a  cage  there,  immediately 
started  such  a  shrill  series  of  cries  that  his  steps  were  un 
heard  by  himself. 

"  Nobody  bein'  yer,"  thought  Jimmy,  "  an'  the  flies  git- 
tin'  at  the  victuals,  I  reckon  I'll  do  as  I  would  be  done  by." 

So  he  began  to  eat,  and  soon  he  heard  a  female  voice, 
very  close  by,  sound  down  the  stairs,  as  if  reciting  to  an 
other  person. 

"Aunt  Patty  says  Aunt  Betty's  first  husband,  Captain 


294    '  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Twiford,  was  a  sea-captain  and  a  widower,  and  she  was 
one  of  the  beautiful  Hanley  girls,  brought  up  by  old  Eb- 
eriezer  Johnson  at  his  house  across  on  Broad  Creek  ;  and 
there  Captain  Twiford  courted  her,  and  brought  her  here 
to  live.  He  died  earl}? — all  my  aunties'  husbands  died 
early — and  is  buried  in  the  vault  out  here  behind  the 
pound,  where  you  can  go  in  and  see  him  in  his  shroud, 
lying  by  Aunt  Betty.  Her  next  husband,  John  Gillis,  left 
her,  and  then  she  lived  with  William  Russell,  a  negro- 
trader.  Aunt  Patty  governed  all  her  sisters  and  the 
Johnson  boys,  too.  Oh,  how  I  fear  her  when  she  looks  at 
me  sometimes  with  her  bold,  black  eyes :  I  can't  help  it." 

Another  voice,  not  a  woman's,  yet  almost  as  gentle, 
now  seemed  to  ask  a  question  ;  but  the  cat-bird,  behaving 
like  a  detective  and  a  tale-bearer,  made  such  a  furious 
screaming  at  seeing  a  stranger  drinking  the  milk,  that 
Phoebus  could  not  hear  it  well.  The  pleasant  female 
voice  spoke  again  : 

"Yes,  he  was  killed  in  the  room  under  this,  before  I 
was  born,  Aunt  Patty  says  ;  and  sometimes  she  likes  to 
tell  such  dark  and  bloody  tales,  and  laughs  with  joy  to 
see  me  frightened  at  them.  Aunt  Betty  got  in  debt,  and 
this  house  and  farm  were  sold  under  executions  and 
bought  by  a  Maryland  man,  who  stole  an  opportunity 
when  the  men  were  away,  and  set  his  goods  in  the  house 
and  set  Aunt  Betty's  goods  outside  upon  the  lawn.  It's 
only  a  mile,  or  a  little  more,  from  here  to  Ebenezer  John 
son's,  and  the  news  of  the  seizure  was  sent  there." 

Jimmy  tore  off  a  piece  of  chicken  with  his  teeth,  listen 
ing  voraciously. 

"Did  you  hear  anything?"  continued  the  voice;  "I 
thought  I  did.  The  dogs  are  chained  up  in  the  smoke 
house,  and  bad  people  are  often  coming  here  ;  I  will  go 
turn  the  dogs  loose." 

"  Be  dogged  if  you  do  !"  Jimmy  reflected.  "  That's  the 
meanest  cat-bird  ever  I  see, fur  now  it's  shut  up  a-purpose." 


OLD    CHIMNEYS.  295 

There  sounded  something  familiar  to  the  uninvited 
guest  in  the  voice  which  seemed  to  delay  this  intention  ; 
but  the  cat-bird,  with  his  unaccommodating  mood,  broke 
right  in  again.  Then  the  female  continued  : 

"While  the  men — who  had  come  armed,  expecting 
trouble — were  removing  Aunt  Betty's  goods  out  of  the 
room,  throwing  many  of  them  out  of  the  windows,  so  as 
to  be  themselves  in  sole  possession,  a  sound  was  heard 
in  the  room  below,  where  your  meal  is  now  ready,  like  a 
panther  skipping  and  lashing  his  tail;  and,  before  the 
men  could  breathe,  old  Ebenezer  Johnson  was  up  the 
stairs  and  laying  about  him.  His  eyes  were  full  of  mur 
der.  One  man  jumped  right  through  that  window  and 
rolled  off  the  porch  ;  another  he  pitched  down  the  stairs  ; 
the  third  was  a  boy,.  Joe  King,  barely  grown— he  lives  not 
far  from  this  house  now — and  Ebenezer  Johnson  dashed 
him  down  the  stairs,  too,  and  started  after  him.  All  his 
life  the  boy  had  been  taught  to  dread  that  terrible  man, 
and  now  he  was  in  his  hands,  or  flying  before  him  ;  and, 
as  he  reeled  through  the  room  below,  out  of  the  door  that 
opens  on  the  back  porch,  the  boy's  eyes,  in  the  agony  of 
the  fear  of  death,  beheld  a  rifle  leaning  there." 

"  Mighty  good  thing  if  it  was  thar  now  !"  Jimmy  in 
wardly  remarked,  finishing  the  chicken,  and  still  hungry. 

"  Oh,  there  is  a  noise  somewhere  in  this  house,"  the 
voice  exclaimed  ;  "  I  never  tell  this  story  but  it  makes  me 
startled  at  every  sound.  The  boy,  as  he  whirled  past, 
grasped  the  long  rifle,  drew  it  to  his  shoulder,  and,  with  a 
young  volunteer's  skill — for  he  had  been  drilling  to  fight 
the  British — he  put  the  two  balls  in  that  old  man's  brain. 
Both  balls  entered  over  the  left  eyebrow,  and  one  passed 
through  the  head  and  was  found  in  the  wall ;  the  other 
never  was  found.*  The  lawless  giant  gave  a  trembling 

*  The  skull  of  Ebenezer  Johnson  can  be  seen  at  Fowler  &  Wells' 
Museum,  New  York,  with  the  bullet-hole  through  it.  There,  also, 
are  the  skulls  of  Patty  and  Betty  Cannon. 


296  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

motion  through  his  frame,  his  eyes  glazed,  and  he  sank 
dead  upon  the  floor  without  a  sound — the  wicked  had 
ceased  from  troubling !  Aunt  Betty,  Aunt  Patty,  and 
Aunt  Jane,  three  sisters  shaped  by  him  in  soul,  fell  on 
his  body  and  wept  and  almost  prayed,  but  it  was  too  late. 
They  buried  him  near  Aunt  Eetty,  in  the  field  behind  the 
pound." 

Undertaking  to  rise  from  his  chair,  Jimmy  Phoebus 
made  a  loud  scraping  on  the  floor,  and  the  table-knife 
fell  with  a  ringing  sound. 

"  Who's  there  ?"  cried  a  voice,  and  added,  "  I  knew  the 
dogs  ought  to  be  loose." 

"  Who's  there  ?"  also  asked  the  other  voice,  with  some 
thing  very  familiar  to  Phoebus  in  its  sounds. 

"  E-b-e-n-e-z-e-r  John-son  !"  answered  Jimmy,  in  his 
deepest  bass  tones,  mentally  considering  that  a  ghost 
might  carry  more  terror  than  a  robber,  after  that  tale. 

A  little  scream  followed,  and  a  whispered  consultation, 
and  then  a  girl's  bare  feet,  beautifully  moulded,  slowly 
descended  the  steep  stairway,  and  next  a  slender,  grace 
ful  body  came  into  view,  and  finally  a  face,  delicious  as  a 
ripe  peach,  looked  once  at  the  intruder  below,  and  all  the 
pink  and  bright  color  faded  from  it  to  see,  standing  there, 
where  Ebenezer  Johnson  had  given  up  the  ghost,  a  stal 
wart  effigy,  bandaged  in  white  all  round  the  head,  and 
over  the  left  eye  and  cheek,  where  the  dead  river-pirate 
had  received  his  double  bullet,  the  blood  was  hideously 
matted  and  not  wholly  stanched  even  yet.  She  sank 
slowly  down  upon  the  steps  and  saw  no  more. 

"Now,  if  I  don't  git  out,  the  dogs  will  be  set  loose," 
muttered  Jimmy,  as  he  disappeared  up  the  farm-house 
lane  and  put  the  barn  and  pound  between  him  and  the 
house ;  and  scarcely  had  he  done  so  when  Levin  Dennis 
appeared  coming  down  the  stairs,  all  unconscious  of  the 
apparition,  and,  finding  the  beautiful  girl  insensible,  he 
raised  her  in  his  arms  and  stole  a  kiss. 


OLD   CHIMNEYS.  2C.J 

Paying  for  his  one  act  of  deceit  by  losing  the  principal 
object  of  his  quest,  Jimmy  Phoebus  stopped  a  minute  by 
Ebenezer  Johnson's  grave. 

In  a  level  field  of  deep  sand — the  soil  here  being  the 
poorest  in  the  region — and  between  the  cattle-pound  and 
the  pines,  which  were  everywhere  jealous  of  their  other 
indigenous  brother,  the  Indian  corn,  an  old  family  burial- 
lot  lay  under  some  low  cedar-trees,  with  wild  berry  bushes 
growing  all  around.  There  were  several  little  stones  over 
Twifords  that  had  died  early,  and  a  large  heap  of  sand, 
planted  with  some  flowers,  that  might  have  covered  a  fa 
vorite  horse,  but  which  Phoebus  believed  was  the  resting- 
place  of  the  river  buccaneer ;  and  there  was  also  a  vault 
of  brick  and  plaster,  with  the  little  cloor  ajar,  where  pru 
rient  visitors,  themselves  with  Saul's  own  selfish  curiosity 
to  raise  the  dead,  had  poked  and  peeped  about  until  the 
coffin  lids  had  been  drawn  back  and  the  dead  pair  ex 
posed  to  the  dry  peninsular  air. 

The  bay  captain  looked  in  and  beheld  his  predecessor, 
Captain  Twiford,  who  also  sailed  the  bay,  lying  in  his 
shroud — not  in  full  clothing,  as  men  are  buried  now,  for 
clothing  was  too  valuable  in  the  scanty-peopled  country 
to  feed  it  to  the  worms.  Twiford  lay  shrivelled  up,  shroud 
and  flesh  making  but  one  skin,  the  face  of  a  walnut  color, 
the  hair  complete,  the  teeth  sound,  and  severe  dignity  un- 
relaxed  by  the  exposure  he  was  condemned  to  for  his  evil 
alliance  with  Betty  Hanley. 

She  also  lay  exposed,  who  had  lived  so  shamelessly,  re 
specting  not  the  mould  of  beauty  God  had  given  her,  till 
now  men  leered  to  look  upon  her  nearly  kiln-dried  bosom 
glued  into  its  winding-sheet,  and  the  glory  of  her  hair, 
that  had  been  handled  by  bantering  outlaws,  and  in  a 
rippling  wave  of  unbleached  coal  covered  the  grinning 
coquetry  of  her  skull. 

"  Them  that  mocks  God  shall  be  mocked  of  him,"  said 
Jimmy  Phoebus,  closing  the  cloor  and  putting  some  of  the 


298  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

scattered  bricks  of  the  vault  against  it.     "Now,  I  reckon, 
I  kin  git  to  the  cross-roads  by  a  leetle  after  dark." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
PATTY   CANNON'S. 

PHCEBUS  passed  along  the  side  of  a  large,  black,  cy 
press-shaded  millpond,  and  found  the  boundary  stone 
again,  and  took  the  angle  from  its  northern  face  as  a  com 
pass-point,  and,  proceeding  in  that  direction,  soon  fell  in 
with  a  sort  of  blind  path  hardly  feasible  for  wheels,  which 
ran  almost  on  the  line  between  the  states  of  Maryland 
and  Delaware,  passing  in  sight  of  several  of  these  old 
boundary  stones.  Not  a  dwelling  was  visible  as  he  pro 
ceeded,  not  even  a  clearing,  not  a  stream  except  one 
mere  gutter  in  the  sand,  not  a  man,  hardly  an  animal  or 
a  bird  ;  the  monotonous  sand-pines,  too  low  to  moan,  too 
thick  to  expand,  too  dry  to  give  shade,  yet  grew  and  grew, 
like  poor  folks'  sandy-headed  children,  and  kept  company 
only  with  some  scrubby  oaks  that  had  strayed  that  way, 
till  pine-cone  and  acorn  seemed  to  have  bred  upon  each 
other,  and  the  wild  hogs  disdained  the  progeny. 

"Maybe  I'll  git  killed  up  yer  in  this  Pangymoniim," 
Jimmy  reflected ;  "  an'  though  I  'spose  it  don't  make  no 
difference  whair  you  plant  your  bones,  I  don't  want  to 
grow  up  into  ole  pines.  Good,  big,  preachitr  kind  of 
pines,  that's  a  little  above  the  world,  an'  says  '  Holy, 
rolley,  melancho-ly,  mind  your  soul-y ' — I  could  go  into 
their  sap  and  shats  fust-rate.  But  to  die  yer  an'  never  be 
found  in  these  desert  wastes  is  pore  salvage  for  a  man 
that's  lived  among  the  \vhite  sails  of  the  bay,  an'  loved  a 
woman  elegant  as  Ellenory." 

It  was  dark,  and  he  could  hardly  see  his  way  in  half 
an  hour.  Sometimes  a  crow  would  caw,  to  hear  strange 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  299 

sounds. go  past,  like  an  old  watchman's  rattle  moved  one 
cog.  The  stars  became  bright,  however,  and  the  moon 
was  new,  and  when  Phoebus  came  to  a  large  cleared 
opening  in  the  pines,  the  lambent  heavens  broke  forth 
and  bathed  the  sandy  fields  with  silver,  and  showed  a 
large,  high  house  at  the  middle  of  the  clearing,  with  out 
side  chimneys,  one  thicker  than  the  other,  and  a  porch  of 
two  stories  facing  the  east. 

Though  not  a  large  dwelling,  it  was  large  for  those 
days  and  for  that  unfrequented  region,  and  its  roof 
seemed  to  Phoebus  remarkably  steep  and  long,  and  yet, 
while  enclosing  so  much  space,  had  not  a  single  dormer 
window  in  it.  The  southern  gable  was  turned  towards 
the  intruder,  and  in  it  were  two  small  windows  at  the 
top,  crowded  between  the  thick  chimney  and  the  roof 
slope.  The  two  main  stories  were  well  lighted,  however, 
and  the  porch  was  enclosed  at  the  farther  end,  making  a 
double  outside  room  there.  No  sheds,  kitchens,  or  sta 
bles  were  attached  to  the  premises,  but  an  old  pole-well, 
like  some  catapult,  reared  its  long  pole  at  half  an  angle 
between  the  crotch  of  another  tree.  Roads,  marked  by 
tall  worm  fences,  crossed  at  the  level  vista  where  this  tall 
house  presided,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  cross 
roads,  to  the  northeast,  was  another  house,  much  smaller, 
and  hip-gabled,  like  Twiford's,  standing  up  a  lane  and 
surrounded  by  small  stables,  cribs,  orchard,  and  garden. 

"  I  never  'spected  to  come  yer,"  Jimmy  Phcebus  ob 
served,  "  but  I've  hearn  tell  of  this  place  considabul. 
The  big  barn-roofed  house  is  Joe  Johnston's  tavern  for 
the  entertainment  of  Georgey  nigger-traders  that  comes 
to  git  his  stolen  goods.  It's  at  the  cross-roads,  three 
miles  from  Cannon's  Ferry,  whar  the  passengers  from  be 
low  crosses  the  Nanticoke  fur  Easton  and  the  north,  an' 
the  stages  from  Cambridge  by  the  King's  road  meets  'em 
yonder  at  the  tavern.  The  tavern  stands  in  Dorchester 
County,  with  a  tongue  of  Caroline  reaching  down  in  front 


300  THE    fNTAILED    HAT. 

of  it,  an'  Delaware  state  hardly  twenty  yards  from  the 
porch.  Thar  ain't  a  court-house  within  twenty  miles,  nor 
a  town  in  ten,  except  Crotcher's  Ferry,  whar  every  Sun 
day  mornin'  the  people  goin'  to  church  kin  pick  up  a 
basketful  of  ears,  eyes,  noses,  lingers,  an'  hair  bit  off  a- 
fightin'  on  Saturday  afternoon.  They  call  the  country 
around  Crotcher's,  Wire  Neck,  caze  no  neck  is  left  thar 
that  kin  be  twisted  off;  the  country  in  lower  Car'line 
they  calls  '  Puckem,'  caze  the  crops  is  so  puckered  up. 
They  say  Joe's  a  great  man  among  his  neighbors,  an' 
kin  go  to  the  Legislater.  The  t'other  house  out  in  the 
fields  is  Patty  Cannon's  own,  whar  she  did  all  her  dev- 
'lishness  fur  twenty  years,  till  Joe  got  rich  enough  to  build 
his  palace." 

With  the  rapid  execution  of  a  man  who  only  plans  with 
his  feet  and  hands,  the  bay  sailor  observed  that  there  was 
a  grove  of  good  high  timber — oaks  and  pines — only  a  few 
rods  from  the  cross-roads  and  to  the  right,  under  cover 
of  which  he  could  draw  near  the  tavern.  As  he  proceed 
ed  to  gain  its  shade,  he  heard  extraordinary  sounds  of 
turbulence  from  the  front  of  the  tavern,  the  yelling  of 
men,  the  baying  of  hounds,  oaths  and  laughter,  and,  list 
ening  as  he  crossed  the  intervening  space,  he  fell  into  a 
ditch  inadvertently,  almost  at  the  edge  of  the  timber. 

"Hallo!"  cried  Jimmy,  lying  quite  still  to  draw  his 
breath,  since  the  ditch  was  now  perfectly  dry,  "this  ditch 
seems  to  me  to  pint  right  for  that  tavern." 

He  therefore  crawled  along  its  dry  bed  till  it  crossed 
under  a  road  by  a  wooden  culvert  or  little  bridge  of  a  few 
planks. 

The  noise  at  the  tavern  was  now  like  a  fight,  and,  as 
Phoebus  continued  to  crawl  forward,  he  heard  twenty 
voices,  crying, 

"Gouge  him,  Owen  Daw!"  "Hit  him  agin,  Cyrus 
James!"  "Chaw  him  right  up!"  "Give  'em  room, 
boys  !" 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  301 

Having  crawled  to  what  he  judged  the  nearest  point  of 
concealed  approach,  Phoebus  lost  the  moment  to  take  a 
single  glance  only,  and,  drawing  his  old  slouched  hat 
down  on  his  face  to  hide  the  bandaging,  he  muttered, 
"  Now's  jess  my  time,"  and  crept  up  to  the  back  of  the 
crowd,  which  was  all  facing  inwards  in  a  circle,  and  did 
not  perceive  him. 

A  fully  grown  man,  as  it  seemed,  was  having  a  fight 
with  a  boy  hardly  fifteen  years  old  ;  but  the  boy  was 
the  more  reckless  and  courageous  of  the  two,  while  the 
man,  with  three  times  the  boy's  strength,  lacked  the  stom 
ach  or  confidence  to  avail  himself  of  it ;  and,  having  had 
the  boy  down,  was  now  being  turned  by  the  latter,  amid 
shouts  of  "  Three  to  two  on  Owen  Daw !"  "  Bite  his  nose 
off,  Owen  Daw !"  "  Five  to  two  that  Cyrus  James  gits 
gouged  by  Owen  Daw  !" 

The  boy  with  a  Celtic  face  and  supple  body  was  full 
of  zeal  to  merit  favor  and  inflict  injury,  and,  as  the  circle 
of  vagrants  and  outlaws  of  all  ages  reeled  and  swayed  to 
and  fro,  Phoebus,  unobserved  by  anybody,  put  his  head 
down  among  the  rest  and  searched  the  faces  for  those  of 
Levin  Dennis  or  Joe  Johnson. 

Neither  was  there,  and  the  only  face  which  arrested 
his  attention  was  a  woman's,  standing  in  the  door  of  the 
enclosed  space  at  the  end  of  the  porch,  at  right  angles  to 
the  central  door  of  the  tavern,  and  just  beside  it.  The 
whole  building  was  without  paint,  and  weather-stained, 
but  the  room  on  the  porch  was  manifestly  newer,  as  if  it 
had  been  an  afterthought,  and  its  two  windows  revealed 
some  of  the  crude  appendages  of  a  liquor  bar,  as  a  fire 
somewhere  within  flashed  up  and  lighted  it. 

By  this  fire  the  woman's  face  was  also  revealed,  and 
she  was  so  much  interested  in  the  fight  that  she  turned 
all  parts  of  her  countenance  into  the  firelight,  slapping 
her  hands  together,  laughing  like  a  man,  dropping  her 
oaths  £t  the  right  places,  and  crying : 


302  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"I  bet  my  money  on  little  Owen  Daw  J  Cy  James 
ain't  no  good,  by  God  !  Yer's  whiskey  a-plenty  for  Owen 
Daw  if  he  gouges  him.  Give  it  to  him,  Owen  Daw !  Shame 
on  ye,  Cy  James  !" 

There  was  occasional  servility  and  deference  to  this 
woman  from  members  of  the  crowd,  however  they  were 
absorbed  in  the  fight.  She  was  what  is  called  a 
"  chunky  "  woman,  short  and  thick,  with  a  rosy  skin,  low 
but  pleasing  forehead,  coal-black  hair,  a  rolling  way  of 
swaying  and  moving  herself,  a  pair  of  large  black  eyes, 
at  once  daring,  furtive,  and  familiar,  and  a  large  neck  and 
large  breast,  uniting  the  bull-dog  and  the  dam,  cruelty 
and  full  womanhood. 

Behind  this  woman,  whom  Phcebus  thought. to  be  Patty 
Cannon  herself,  the  moonlight  from  the  rear  came  through 
the  door  in  the  older  and  main  building,  shining  quite 
through  the  house,  and  Phcebus  saw  that  the  rear  door 
was  also  open  and  was  unguarded. 

He  took  the  first  chance,  therefore,  of  dodging  around 
the  corner  of  the  bar,  intending  to  pass  around  the  north 
gable  of  the  house  and  dart  up  the  stairs  by  the  unwatched 
door;  but  he  had  barely  got  out  of  sight  when  a  loud 
hurrah  burst  from  the  crowd  as  a  feeble  voice  was  heard 
crying  "  Enough,  enough !"  followed  by  jeers  rapidly  ap 
proaching. 

The  large  outside  chimney,  where  Phcebus  now  was, 
had  an  arched  cavity  in  it  large  enough  to  contain  a  man, 
being  the  chimney  of  two  different  rooms  within,  whose 
smoke,  uniting  higher  up,  ascended  through  one  stem. 
Into  this  cavity  Phcebus  dodged,  in  time  to  avoid  the 
beaten  party  to  the  fight,  the  grown  man,  who  staggered 
blindly  by  towards  a  well,  his  face  dripping  blood,  and  he 
was  sobbing  babyishly ;  but  the  concealed  sailor  heard 
him  say,  in  a  whining  tone  : 

"  She  set  him  on  me ;  I'll  make  her  pay  for  it." 

Several  of  the  partisans  or  tormentors  of  this  craven 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  303 

followed  after  him,  and  Jimmy  himself  fell  in  at  the  rear, 
and,  instead  of  going  with  the  rest  towards  the  well, 
where  the  loser  was  bathing  his  face,  Phoebus  softly 
stepped  over  the  low  sill  of  the  back  door,  the  woman's 
back  being  turned  to  him,  and,  as  he  had  anticipated,  a 
stairway  ascended  there  out  of  a  large  room,  which  an 
swered  the  purposes  of  parlor  and  hall,  dining  and  gam 
bling  room,  as  Jimmy  drank  in  at  one  glance,  from  seeing 
tables,  dishes  and  cards,  bottles  and  whips,  arms  and 
saddles.  This  stairway  had  no  baluster,  and  was  not 
safe  in  the  dark  for  strangers  to  the  house. 

Satisfying  himself  by  an  interior  observation,  as  he  had 
suspected  exteriorly,  that  there  was  no  cellar  under  John 
son's  tavern,  the  sailor  slipped  up  the  stairs,  intent  to  find 
where  Judge  Custis's  property  and  Ellenora's  wayward 
son  had  been  concealed.  The  second  story  had  a  hall, 
which  opened  only  at  the  front  of  the  house  and  upon 
the  upper  piazza,  and  four  doors  upon  this  hall  indi 
cated  four  bedrooms.  One  of  them  was  ajar,  and,  peep 
ing  through,  Phoebus  saw,  extended  on  a  bed,  oblivious 
to  all  the  fighting  and  din  outside,  Joe  Johnson  the  ne 
gro-trader,  his  form  revealed  by  a  lamp  and  the  open  fire. 

An  impulse,  immediately  repressed,  came  on  the  sailor 
to  draw  his  knife  and  stab  Johnson  to  the  heart,  as  prob 
ably  the  villain  who  had  shot  him  from  the  cat-boat.  The 
negro-trader  wearily  turned  his  long  length  in  the  bed, 
and  Phoebus  slipped  back  along  the  hall  to  the  only  door 
besides  that  was  not  closed  fast,  leading  into  the  room  at 
the  rear  southern  corner  of  the  house. 

This  door  creaked  loudly  as  it  was  opened,  and  a  man 
of  a  bandit  form  and  dress,  who  was  lying  on  a  pallet 
within,  revealed  by  the  bright  moonlight  streaming  in  at 
two  windows,  half  roused  himself  as  Jimmy  crouched  at 
the  door,  where  a  partition,  as  of  a  very  large  clothes- 
press,  taking  up  fully  half  the  room,  rose  between  the  in 
truder  and  the  occupant. 


304  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Who's  there?"  exclaimed  a  voice,  with  a  slight  lisp  in 
it. 

Jimmy  discovered  that  there  was  a  low  trap  or  door 
near  the  floor,  opening  into  this  remarkable  closet,  and  he 
slipped  inside  and  drew  his  knife  again.  The  man  was 
heard  moving  about  the  narrow  room,  and  he  finally 
seemed  to  walk  out  into  the  hall  and  down  the  stairs. 

Feeling  around  his  closet,  which  was  pitch  dark,  Phce- 
bus  found  a  deep  indentation  in  it,  as  of  a  smaller  closet, 
and  the  sound  of  crooning  voices  came  from  above. 

"By  smoke!"  Jimmy  mentally  exclaimed,  "this  big 
closet  is  nothin'  but  a  blind  fur  a  stairway  in  the  little 
closet  to  climb  up  to  the  dungeon  under  the  big  roof!" 

He  stole  out  again  and  found  the  moonlight  now 
streaming  upon  an  empty  pallet  and  the  burly  watchman 
gone,  and  streaming,  too,  upon  a  larger  door  in  the  closet 
opposite  the  indentation  he  had  felt,  this  door  secured 
by  a  padlock  through  a  staple  fastening  an  iron  bar. 
The  key  was  in  the  padlock,  and  Jimmy  turned  it  back, 
drew  off  the  lock  and  dropped  the  bar. 

The  moment  he  opened  the  door  an  almost  insupporta 
ble  smell  came  clown  a  shallow  hatchway  within,  up  which 
leaned  a  rough  step-ladder,  movable,  and  of  stout  con 
struction. 

"That  smell,"  said  Phoebus,  entering,  and  pulling  the 
door  close  behind  him,  "  might  be  wool,  or  camel,  or  a 
moral  menagerie  from  the  royal  gardings  of  Europe,  but 
I  guess  it's  Nigger." 

He  went  up  the  steep  steps  with  some  difficulty,  as 
they  were  made  to  pass  only  one  person,  and  at  the  top 
he  entered  a  large  garret,  divided  into  two  by  a  heavy 
partition  of  yellow  pine,  with  a  door  at  the  middle  of  it, 
and  from  beyond  this  partition  came  the  sounds  of  croon 
ing  and  babbling  he  had  heard. 

The  bright  night,  shining  through  a  small  gable  win 
dow,  revealed  this  outer  half  of  the  garret  empty,  and  no 


PATTY    CANNON  S.  305 

furniture  or  other  appurtenance  than  the  hole  in  the  floor 
up  which  he  had  come,  and  the  door  into  the  place  of 
wailing  beyond,  which  was  fastened  by  a  long  iron  spike 
dropping  into  a  staple  that  overshot  a  heavy  wooden  bar. 
As  he  slipped  up  the  spike  and  took  the  bar  off,  Phoebus 
heard  some  person  in  the  room  below  mutter,  and  lock 
the  great  padlock  upon  the  other  door,  effectually  barring 
his  escape  by  that  egress. 

"We  must  take  things  as  they  come,"  thought  Jimmy, 
grimly,  "  partickler  in  Pangymonum,  whar  I  am  now." 

He  also  reflected  that  the  arrangements  of  this  kidnap 
pers'  pen,  simple  as  they  seemed,  were  quite  sufficient 
If  authority  should  demand  to  search  the  house,  the 
double  clothes-press  below,  with  the  ladder  pulled  up  into 
the  loft,  became  a  harmless  closet  hung  with  wardrobe 
matters,  and  the  inner  closet  a  storeroom  for  articles  of 
bulk;  and  no  human  being  could  either  go  up  or  come 
down  without  passing  two  inhabited  floors  and  three  dif 
ferent  doors,  besides  the  door  to  the  slave-pen. 

This  last  door  Phoebus  now  threw  open  and  walked 
into  the  pen  itself,  stooping  his  head  to  avoid  the  low  en- 
trance^ 

For  some  minutes  he  could  not  see  the  contents  at  all 
in  the  total  darkness  that  prevailed,  as  there  was  no  win- 
clow  whatever  in  this  pen  or  den,  but  he  heard  various 
voices,  and  inhaled  the  strong,  close  air  of  many  African 
breaths  exhausting  the  supply  of  oxygen,  and  knew  that 
chains  and  irons  were  being  moved  against  the  boards  of 
the  floor. 

"  Thair  ain't  nothin'  to  do  yer,"  Jimmy  remarked,  soft 
ly,  "  but  jess  squat  down  an'  git  a-climated,  as  they  say 
about  strangers  to  our  bilious  shore,  an'  git  your  eyeballs 
tuned  to  the  dark.  But  I  should  say  that  this  was  both 
hokey-pokey  an'  Pangymonum,  by  smoke  !" 

A  man  in  some  part  of  the  den  was  praying  in  a  highly 
nervous,  excited  way,  slobbering  out  his  agonizing  sen- 

20 


306  THE    ENTAILED    liAT. 

tences,  and  dwelling  hard  upon  his  more  open  vowels, 
and  keeping  several  other  inmates  in  sympathy  or  equal 
misery,  as  they  piped  in  answer  to  his  apostrophes  : 

"  Lawd,  de-seen'/  ZV-scen',  O  my  Lawd.  I  will  not  let 
clee  go ;  no,  oh  my  Lawd !  Come,  save  me  !  Yes,  my 
Lawd  !  Come  walkin'  on  de  waters  !  Come  outen  Laza- 
rus's  tomb !  Come  on  de  chario'f  fire !  Come  in  de 
power  !  De-seen'  now,  O  my  Lawd !" 

Phcebus's  entrance  made  no  excitement,  and  he  crouch 
ed  down  to  await  the  strengthening  of  his  eyes  to  see 
around  him.  The  place  appeared  to  be  nearly  twenty- 
five  feet  square,  and  was  cross-boarded  both  the  gable 
way  and  under  the  sloping  roof,  whose  eaves  were  planked 
up  a  foot  or  two  above  the  floor ;  in  the  middle  any  man 
could  stand  upright  and  scarcely  touch  the  ridge  beam 
with  his  hands,  but  along  the  sloping  sides  could  barely 
sit  upright. 

The  man  still  continuing  to  express  his  absolute  sub 
jection  of  spirit  in  a  frenzy  of  words,  and  several  little 
children  crying  and  shouting  responsively,  Phcebus  or 
dered  the  man  to  cease,  after  asking  him  kindly  to  do  so 
several  times ;  and  the  command  being  disobeyed,  he 
slapped  the  praying  one  with  his  open  hand,  and  the 
poor  wretch  rolled  over  in  a  kind  of  feeble  fit. 

A  little  child  somewhere  continuing  to  cry,  Phcebus 
took  it  in  his  arms  and  held  between  it  and  the  starlight, 
at  the  half-open  door,  one  of  the  shillings  he  had  obtained 
from  the  old  cabin  on  Broad  Creek  a  few  hours  before. 
The  child,  seeing  something  shine,  seized  it  and  held  fast, 
and  Phcebus  next  passed  his  hand  over  the  face  of  a 
sleeping  man,  who  was  snoring  calmly  and  strenuously 
on  the  floor  beside  him.  He  made  room  for  the  faint 
light  to  shine  upon  the  sleeper's  black  face,  and  exclaimed, 
in  a  moment : 

"If  it  ain't  Samson  Hat  I  hope  I  may  be  swallered  by 
a  whale !" 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  .  307 

Calling  his  name,  "  Samson  !  Samson !"  Phoebus  ob 
served  a  most  dejected  mulatto  person,  who  had  been 
lying  back  in  the  shadows,  crawl  forward,  rattling  his 
manacles.  This  man,  when  spoken  to,  replied  with  such 
refinement  and  accuracy,  however  his  face  betokened 
great  inward  misery,  that  the  sailor  took  as  careful  a  sur 
vey  of  him  as  the  moonlight  permitted,  coming  in  by  that 
one  lean  attic  window.  He  was  a  man  who  had  shaved 
himself  only  recently,  and  his  dark,  curling  side-whiskers 
and  clean  lips,  and  the  tuft  of  goatee  in  the  hollow  of  his 
chin,  and  intelligent,  high  forehead,  seemed  altogether  out 
of  place  in  this  darksome  eyrie  of  the  sad  and  friendless. 

"  Is  he  your  friend,  sir?"  asked  this  man,  turning  tow 
ards  Samson.  "  He  must  have  a  good  conscience  if  he 
is,  for  he  slept  soon  after  he  was  brought  here,  and  has 
never  uttered  a  single  complaint." 

"  And  you  have,  I  reckon  ?"  said  the  waterman. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir  ;  I  have  been  treated  with  such  ingrati 
tude.  It  would  break  any  gentleman's  heart  to  hear  my 
tale.  Who  is  your  friend,  sir?" 

"  Samson,  wake  up,  old  bruiser  !"  cried  Phoebus,  shak 
ing  the  sleeper  soundly;  "you  didn't  give  in  to  one  or 
two,  by  smoke !" 

"  Is  it  you,  Jimmy  ?"  the  old  negro  finally  said,  with  a 
sheepish  expression ;  "  why,  neighbor,  I'm  glad  to  see  you, 
but  I'm  sorry,  too.  A  black  man  dey  don't  want  to  kill 
yer,  caze  dey  kin  sell  him,  but  a  white  man  like  you  dey 
don't  want  to  keep,  and  dey  dassn't  let  him  go." 

"  A  white  man  here  ?"  exclaimed  the  superior-looking 
person  ;  "  what  can  they  mean  ?" 

"I'm  ironed  so  heavy,  Jimmy,"  continued  Samson, 
"  dat  I  can't  set  up  much.  My  han's  is  tied  togedder  wid 
cord,  my  feet's  in  an  iron  clevis,  and  a  ball's  chained  to 
de  clevis." 

"Give  me  your  hands,"  exclaimed  Jimmy;  "I'll  settle 
them  cords,  by  smoke  !" 


308  •  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

In  a  minute  he  had  severed  the  cords  at  the  wrist,  and 
the  intelligent  yellow  man  pleaded  that  a  similar  favor  be 
clone  for  him,  to  which  the  sailor  acceded  ungrudgingly. 

"Jimmy,"  said  Samson,  "  if  it's  ever  known  in  Prencess 
Anne — as  I  'spect  it  never  will  be,  fur  we're  in  bad  hands, 
neighbor — dar'll  be  a  laugh  instid  of  a  cry,  fur  ole  box- 
in'  Samson,  dat  was  kidnapped  an'  fetched  to  jail  by  a 
woman  !" 

"  You  licked  by  a  woman,  Samson  ?" 

"  Yes,  Jimmy,  a  woman  all  by  herseff  frowed  me  down, 
tied  my  hands  an'  feet,  an'  brought  me  to  dis  garret.  I 
hain't  seen  nobody  but  her  an'  dese  yer  people,  sence  I 
was  tuk." 

"  Ha  !"  exclaimed  the  dejected  mulatto,  "  that's  a  fa 
vorite  feat  of  Patty  Cannon.  She  is  the  only  woman 
ever  seen  at  a  threshing-floor  who  can  stand  in  a  half- 
bushel  measure  and  lift  five  bushels  of  grain  at  once  upon 
her  shoulders,  weighing  three  hundred  pounds." 

"  I  ain't  half  dat,"  Samson  smiled,  quietly,  "  an'  she 
handled  me,  shore  enough.  You  remember,  Jimmy,  when 
I  leff  you  by  ole  Spring  Hill  church,  to  go  an' git  a  wom 
an  on  a  little  wagon  to  show  me  de  way  to  Laurel?" 

"Why,  it  was  only  yisterday,  Samson  !" 

"Dat  was  cle  woman,  Jimmy.  She  was  a  chunky, 
heavy-sot  woman,  right  purty  to  look  at,  an'  maybe  fifty 
year  ole.  She  was  de  nicest  woman  mos'  ever  I  see. 
She  made  me  git  off  my  mule  an'  ride  in  de  wagon  by 
her,  an'  take  a  drink  of  her  own  applejack — she  saicl  she 
'stilled  it  on  her  farm.  She  said  she  knowed  Judge  Cus- 
tis,  an'  asked  me  questions  about  Prencess  Anne,  an' 
wanted  me  to  work  fur  her  some  way.  We  was  goin' 
froo  a  pore,  pine  country,  a  heap  wuss  dan  Hardship,  whar 
Marster  Milburn  come  outen,  an'  hadn't  seen  nobody  on 
de  road  till  we  come  to  a  run  she  said  was  named  de 
Tussocky  branch,  whar  she  got  out  of  cle  wagon  to  water 
her  hoss.  At  dat  place  she  come  up  to  me  an'  says, 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  309 

*  Samson,  I'll  wrastle  you!'  'Go  long,'  says  I,  *I  kin't 
wrastle  no  woman  like  you.'  *  You  got  to,'  she  says, 
swearin'  like  a  man.  an'  takin'  holt  of  me  jess  like  a  man 
wrastles.  I  felt  ashamed,  an'  didn't  know  what  to  do, 
and,  befo'  I  could  wink,  Jimmy,  dat  woman  had  give  me 
de  trip  an'  shoved  me  wid  a  blow  like  de  kick  of  an  ox, 
and  was  a-top  of  my  back  wid  a  knee  like  iron  pinnin'  of 
me  down." 

"  The  awful  huzzy  of  Pangymonum  !" 

"  De  fust  idee  I  had  was  dat  she  was  a  man  dressed 
up  like  a  woman.  I  started  like  lightnin'  to  jump  up,  an' 
my  legs  caught  each  oder  ;  she  had  carried  de  cord  to  tie 
me  under  her  gown,  an'  clued  it  arouiv  me  in  a  minute. 
As  I  run  at  her  an'  fell  hard,  she  drew  de  runnin'  knot 
tight  an-  danced  aroun'  me  like  a  fat  witch,  windin'  me 
all  up  in  de  rope.  De  sweat  started  from  my  head,  I 
yelled  an'  fought  an'  fell  agin,  an',  as  I  laid  with  my 
tongue  out  like  a  calf  in  de  butcher's  cart,  she  whispered 
to  me,  'Maybe  you're  de  las'  nigger  ole  Patty  Cannon'll 
ever  tie  !' 

"At  dat  name  I  jess  prayed  to  de  Lord,  but  it  was  too 
late.  She  put  me  in  de  cart  an'  gagged  me  so  I  couldn't 
say  a  word,  and  blood  came  outen  my  mouth.  I  heard 
her  talkin'  to  people  as  we  passed  by  a  town  an'  over  a 
bridge.  Nobody  looked  in  de  cart  whar  I  laid  kivered 
over,  till  we  come  to  a  ferry  in  de  night,  an'  dar  we  passed 
over,  and  I  heard  her  talkin'  to  a  man  on  dis  side  of  de 
ferry.  He  come  to  de  side  of  de  wagon  an'  peeped,  at 
me,  layin'  helpless  dar,  my  eyes  jess  a-prayin'  to  him — and 
he  had  an  elegant  eye  in  his  head,  Jimmy.  He  says  soft 
ly  to  hisself,  'Dis  is  no  consignment,  manifes'ly,  to  Isaac 
an'  Jacob  Cannon,'  an'  he  kivered  me  up  again,  an'  the 
woman  fetched  me  yer,  put  on  de  irons,  and  shoved  me 
into  dis  hole  in  de  garret." 

"  I  reckon  that  was  Isaac  Cannon,  t'other  Levite  that 
never  sees  anything  that  ain't  in  his  quoshint." 


310  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  How's  the  purty  gals,  Jimmy?  I  shall  see  'em  in  my 
dreams,  I  'spect,  if  I  am  sold  Souf.  I  ain't  got  long  to 
stay,  nohow,  Jimmy,  fur  I'm  mos'  sixty.  If  you  ever  git 
out,  tell  my  marster  to  buy  dat  gal  Virgie,  an'  make  her 
free.  She  ain't  fit  to  be  a  slave." 

"Gals  has  their  place,"  said  Phoebus,  "  but  not  whair 
men  has  to  fight  for  liberty.  How  many  fighting  men  are 
we  here  ?" 

"  I  'spect  you's  de  only  one,  Jimmy ;  we's  all  chained 
up ;  dese  nigger-dealers  is  all  blacksmifs  an'  keeps  balls, 
hobbles,  gripes,  an'  clevises,  an'  loads  us  wid  iron." 

"  Who  is  that  woman  back  yonder  so  quare  an'  still  ?" 

"  Why,  Jimmy,  don't  you  know  Aunt  Hominy,  Jedge 
Custis's  ole  cook?  Dey  brought  her  in  dis  mornin'  wi' 
two  little  children  outen  Teackle  Hall  kitchen  ;  one  of 
clem  you  give  dat  silver  to — little  Ned.  Hominy  ain't 
said  a  word  sence  she  come." 

Jimmy  Phoebus  went  back  to  the  corner  of  the  den 
where  the  old  woman  cowered,  and  called  her  name  in 
many  different  accents  and  with  kind  assurances  : 

"  Hominy,  ole  woman,  don't  you  know  Ellenory's  Jim 
my?  Jedge  Custis  is  comin'  for  you,  aunty.  I'm  yer  to 
take  you  home." 

She  did  not  speak  at  all,  and  Phcebus  lifted  her  with 
out  resistance  nearer  to  the  moonlight.  Her  lips  mum 
bled  unintelligibly,  her  eyes  were  dull,  she  did  not  seem 
to  know  them. 

Samson  crawled  forward,  and  also  called  her  name 
kindly  : 

"  Aunt  Hominy,  Miss  Vesty's  sent  fur  you.  Dis  yer  is 
Jimmy  Phcebus." 

The  little  boy  Ned  now  spoke  up  : 

"Aunt  Hominy  ain't  spoke  sence  dat  Quaker  man 
killed  little  Phillis." 

"Jimmy,"  solemnly  whispered  Samson,  "Aunt  Hom 
iny's  lost  her  mind." 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  311 

"Yes,"  spoke  up  the  dejected  and  elegant  mulatto 
prisoner,  "she's  become  an  idiot.  They  sometimes  take 
it  that  way." 

Phoebus  bent  his  face  close  down  to  the  poor  old  creat 
ure's,  sitting  there  in  her  checkered  turban  and  silver  ear 
rings,  clean  and  tidy  as  servants  of  the  olden  time,  and 
he  studied  her  vacant  countenance,  her  tenantless  eyes, 
her  lips  moving  without  connection  or  relevance,  and  felt 
that  cruelty  had  inflicted  its  last  miraculous  injury — 
whipped  out  her  mind  from  its  venerable  residence,  and 
left  her  body  yet  to  suffer  the  pains  of  life  without  the  un 
derstanding  of  them. 

"  Oh,  shame !  shame  !"  cried  the  sailor,  tears  finally 
falling  from  his  eyes,  "  to  deceive  and  steal  this  pore,  be- 
lievin'  intelleck !  To  rob  the  cook  of  the  little  tin  cup 
full  o'  brains  she  uses  to  git  food  fur  bad  an'  fur  good 
folks !  Why,  the  devils  in  Pangymonum  wouldn't  treat 
that  a  way  the  kind  heart  that  briled  fur  'em." 

"  De  long  man  said  he  was  Quaker  man,"  exclaimed 
Vince,  the  larger  boy,  "  an'  he  come  to  take  Hominy  to 
de  free  country.  Hominy  was  sold,  she  said,  an'  must 
go.  De  long  man  had  a  boat — Mars  Dennis's  boat — an5 
in  de  night  little  Phillis  woke  up  an'  cried.  Nobody 
couldn't  stop  her.  De  long  man  picked  little  Phillis  up 
by  de  leg  an'  mashed  her  skull  in  agin  de  flo'.  Aunt 
Hominy  ain't  never  spoke  no  mo'." 

"Did  you  hear  the  long  man  speak  after  that,  Vince?" 

"  Yes,  mars'r.  I  heerd  de  long  man  tell  Mars  Dennis 
clat  if  he  didn't  steer  de  boat  an'  shet  his  mouf,  he'd 
shoot  him.  I  heerd  de  pistol  go  off,  but  Mars  Dennis 
wasn't  killed,  fur  I  saw  him  steerin'  afterwards." 

"  Thank  God  !"  spoke  the  sailor,  kissing  the  child. 
"  Ellenory's  boy  was  innocent,  by  smoke  !  That  nigger- 
trader  shot  me  an'  threatened  Levin's  life  if  he  listened 
to  me  hailing  of  him.  The  noise  I  heard  was  the  murder 
of  the  baby,  whose  cries  betrayed  the  coming  of  the  ves- 


312  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

sel.  Samson,  thar's  been  treachery  ever  sence  we  left 
Salisbury,  an'  that  nigger  Dave's  a  part  of  it." 

"  He  said  he  hated  me  caze  I  larned  him  to  box. 
Maybe  my  fightin's  been  my  punishment,  Jimmy,  but  I 
never  struck  a  man  a  foul  blow." 

"  And  what  was  your  hokey-pokey  ?"  the  pungy  captain 
cried  to  the  man  who  had  been  making  so  much  religious 
din.  "  Did  they  sell  you  fur  never  knowin'  whar  to  stop 
a  good  thing  ?" 

The  man  hoarsely  explained,  himself  interested  by  the 
disclosures  and  fraternity  around  him  : 

"  I  was  slave  to  a  local  preacher  in  Delaware,  an'  de 
sexton  of  de  church.  It  was  ole  Barrett's  chapel,  up  yer 
between  Dover  an'  Murderkill — de  church  whar  Bishop 
Coke  an'  Francis  Asbury  fust  met  on  de  pulpit  stairs. 
My  marster  an'  me  was  boff  members  of  it,  but  he  loved 
money  bad,  an'  I  was  to  be  free  when  I  got  to  be  twenty- 
five  years  ole,  accordin'  to  de  will  of  his  Quaker  fader, 
dat  left  me  to  him.  Las'  Sunday  night  dey  had  a  long 
class-meetin'  dar,  an'  when  nobody  was  leff  in  de  church 
but  my  marster  an'  me,  he  says  to  me,  *  Rodney,  le's  you 
an'  me  have  one  more  prayer  togedder  befo'  you  put  out 
dat  las'  lamp.  You  pray,  Rodney  !'  I  knelt  an'  prayed 
for  marster  after  I  must  leave  him  to  be  free  next  year, 
an',  while  I  was  prayin'  loud,  people  crept  in  de  church 
an'  tied  me,  and  marster  was  gone." 

"He  sold  you  fur  life  to  them  kidnappers,  boy,  becaze 
you  was  goin'  to  be  free  next  year.  Don't  your  Bible  tell 
you  to  watch  arf  pray?" 

"  Yes,  marster." 

"  Well,  then,  boys,  it's  all  watch  to-night  and  no  more 
praying,"  cried  Jimmy  Phcebus,  cheerily.  "  Here  are  four 
men,  loving  liberty,  bound  to  have  it  or  die.  Thar's  one 
of  'em  with  a  knife,  an'  the  first  kidnapper  that  crosses 
that  sill,  man  or  woman — fur  we'll  trust  no  more  women, 
Samson— gits  the  knife  to  the  hilt !  The  blessed  light 


PATTY  CANNON'S.  313 

that  shone  onto  Calvary  an'  Bunker  Hill  is  a  gleamin'  on 
the  blade.  Work  off  your  irons,  if  you  kin  ;  I'll  git  you 
rafters  outen  this  roof  to  jab  with  if  you  can't  do  no  bet 
ter.  Are  you  all  with  me  ?" 

"  I  am,  Jimmy,"  answered  Samson,  quietly. 

"I'll  die  with  ye,  too,"  exclaimed  the  praying  man,  with 
rekindled  spirit. 

"We  will  all  be  murdered,  gentlemen,"  protested  the 
dejected  mulatto.  "  I  know  these  desperate  people." 

"Then  you  crawl  over  in  the  corner,"  Phoebus  com 
manded,  "and  see  three  men  fight  fur  you.  We  don't 
want  any  fine  buck  nigger  to  spile  his  beauty  for  us." 

The  man  crawled  back  into  the  blackness  of  the  den 
again,  and  Phoebus  began  to  search  the  open  half  of  the 
garret  for  implements  of  war.  He  found  two  long  pieces 
of  chain,  with  which  determined  men  might  beat  out  an 
adversary's  brains. 

"  Now,  boys,"  Jimmy  delivered  himself,  "  I  hain't  lost 
my  head  yisterday  nor  to-day  neither,  by  smoke  !  I'm 
goin'  to  kill  the  first  person  that  comes  yer,  an'  git  the 
keys  of  this  den  from  him,  an'  lock  all  of  you  in  fast,  an' 
the  dead  kidnapper,  too.  Then  they  won't  git  at  you  to 
ship  you  off  till  I  kin  git  to  Seaford,  over  yer  in  Delaware 
— it's  not  more  than  six  mile — whar  I  know  .three  cap 
tains  of  pungies,  and  all  of  'em's  in  port  thar  now — all 
friends  of  Jimmy  Phoebus,  all  well  armed,  and  their  crews 
enough  to  handle  Pangymonum  !" 

A  noise  was  heard  at  the  lock  of  the  lower  door,  and 
Phoebus  slipped  into  the  enclosed  den  and  took  his  sta 
tion  just  within  the  door. 

"Remember,"  he  whispered,  "I  open  the  fight." 

The  lock  snapped  at  the  door  below  the  step-ladder, 
the  bolt  fell,  and  the  light  of  a  lamp  flashed  up  the  hatch 
way  and  upon  the  naked  roof,  and  through  the  cracks  of 
the  boarded  garret  pen. 

The  sailor's  knife  was  in  his  belt-pouch,  where  he  car- 


314  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ried  it  over  the  hip.  As  he  leaned  clown  to  look  through 
a  crack  in  the  low  door,  he  felt  a  hand  from  the  gloom 
behind  touch  him. 

Instinctively  he  felt  for  his  knife,  and  it  was  gone. 

"Captain,"  cried  the  voice  of  the  dejected  mulatto,  as 
the  door  of  the  pen  flew  open  and  the  bandit-looking 
stranger  appeared  with  the  lamp,  "  there's  a  white  man 
here  going  to  kill  you.  I've  taken  his  knife  from  him 
and  saved  your  life.  It's  a  rebellion,  captain  !" 

"  Help  !  Patty  !  Joe  !"  cried  the  man,  with  a  loud  voice, 
as  Jimmy  Phoebus  threw  himself  upon  him  and  extin 
guished  the  lamp,  and  the  two  powerful  men  rolled  on  the 
floor  together  in  a  grip  of  mortal  combat. 

Phoebus  was  a  man  of  great  power,  but  his  antagonist 
was  strong  and  slippery,  tco,  and  a  spirited  rough-and- 
tumble  fighter. 

The  pungy  captain  was  on  top,  the  bandit  man  locked 
him  fast  in  his  arms  and  legs,  and  tried  to  stab  him  in 
the  side,  as  Phoebus  felt  the  handle  of  a  clasp-knife,  which 
seemed  slow  to  obey  its  spring,  strike  him  repeatedly  all 
round  the  groin,  in  strokes  that  would  have  killed,  inflict 
ed  by  the  blade. 

Phoebus  attempted  to  drag  the  man  to  the  hatch 
way  and  force  him  down  it,  while  the  two  negro  assist 
ants  of  Phoebus  beat  down  the  negro  traitor  with  their 
chains,  and  searched  him  vainly  for  the  knife  he  had 
filched. 

At  last  Phoebus  prevailed,  and  his  antagonist  rolled 
down  the  open  hatchway,  seven  feet  or  more,  still  keep 
ing  his  desperate  hold  on  Phoebus,  and  dragging  him 
along;  and  both  might  have  cracked  their  skulls  but  for 
a  woman  just  in  the  act  of  hurrying  up  the  ladder,  against 
whom  their  two  bodies  pitched  and  were  cushioned  upon 
her. 

The  shock,  however,  stunned  both  of  them,  and  when 
Phoebus  recollected  himself  he  was  tied  hand  and  foot 


PATTY    CANNON  S.  315 

and  lying  on  the  garret  floor  again,  and  over  him  stood 
Joe  Johnson,  flourishing  a  cowhide. 

The  bandages  had  again  been  torn  from  Phcebus's 
face,  and  he  was  bleeding  at  the  flesh-wound  in  his  cheek, 
and  breathless  from  his  conflict.  A  woman  had  dashed 
a  vessel  of  water  into  his  face,  and  this  had  revived  him. 

The  other  man,  called  "captain,"  had,  meantime,  by 
the  aid  of  this  woman — the  same  Phoebus  had  seen  down 
stairs — subdued  and  tied  the  black  insurgents,  and  both 
of  them  were  flourishing  their  whips  over  the  backs  and 
heads  of  the  prisoners,  big  and  little,  so  that  the  garret 
was  no  slight  reflection  of  the  place  of  eternal  torment, 
as  the  shadows  of  the  monsters,  under  the  weak  light, 
whipped  and  danced  against  the  beams  and  shingles,  and 
shrieks  and  shouts  of  "  Mercy  !"  blended  in  hideous  dis 
sonance. 

The  woman  now  turned  her  lamp  on  the  sailor's  rough, 
swarthy,  injured  countenance,  and  looked  him  over  out 
of  her  dark,  bold  eyes  : 

"  Joe,  this  is  a  nigger,  by  God  !" 

Johnson  and  the  captain  also  examined  him  carefully, 
and,  uttering  an  oath,  the  former  kicked  the  prostrate  man 
with  his  heavy  boot. 

"  I  popped  this  bloke  last  night/'  he  said,  "and  thought 
the  scold's  cure  had  him.  He's  a  sea-crab  playin'  the 
setter  fur  niggers.  He  sang  beef  to  me  in  Princess  Anne. 
I  told  him  thar  he'd  pass  for  a  nigger,  Patty,  and  we'll 
sell  him  fur  one  to  Georgey !" 

"  All's  fish  that  comes  to  our  net,  Joe,"  the  woman 
chuckled  ;  "he'll  sell  high,  too." 

"That  white  man,"  spoke  the  voice  of  Samson,  within 
the  pen,  his  chains  rattling,  "has  hunderds  of  friends  a- 
lookin'  fur  him,  an'  you'll  ketch  it  if  you  don't  let  him 
off." 

"What  latitat  chants  there?"  Joe  Johnson  demanded 
of  Patty  Cannon. 


316  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  That's  my  nigger,  Joe,"  the  woman  answered. 

"  Fetch  him  to  the  light." 

The  captain  propped  Samson  up,  and  Joe  Johnson 
glared  into  his  face,  and  then  struck  him  down  with  the 
handle  of  his  heavy  whip. 

"  Patty,"  he  growled,  "  that  nigger's  scienced  ;  he's  the 
champion  scrapper  of  Somerset.  He  knocked  me  clown, 
and  I  marked  him  fur  it;  and  now,  by  God  !  I'm  a-goin' 
to  burn  him  alive  on  Twiford's  island." 

He  swore  an  oath,  half  blasphemous,  half  blackguard, 
and  the  captain  murmured,  with  a  lisp  : 

"  The  white  man  is  the  only  witness.  Make  sure  of 
him  !" 

Irons  were  produced,  and  the  captain  speedily  fastened 
Phcebus's  hands  in  a  clevis,  and  hobbled  his  feet,- and 
placed  him,  without  brutality,  in  the  pen,  and,  further, 
chained  him  there  to  a  ring  in  the  joist  below.  As  the 
door  was  closed  and  bolted,  a  voice  from  the  darkness  of 
the  pen  cried  out : 

"  Aunt  Patty,  let  me  out :  I  saved  the  captain's  life  ;  I 
took  the  white  man's  knife.  I'll  serve  you  faithfully  if 
you  only  let  me  go." 

"  He  blowed  the  gab,"  said  Joe  Johnson,  "  but  it  won't 
serve  him." 

"  Zeke,"  cried  the  woman,  "  it's  no  use.  You  go  to 
Georgey  with  the  next  gang — you  an'  the  white  nigger 
than" 

The  man  threw  himself  upon  the  floor  and  moaned 
and  prayed,  as  the  lamplight  disappeared  and  the  hatch 
way  slid  echoingly  over  the  stairs,  and  the  lower  bolts 
were  drawn.  As  he  lay  there  in  horror  and  amid  con 
tempt,  a  voice  arrested  his  ears  near  by,  singing,  with 
musical  and  easy  spirit,  so  low  that  it  seemed  a  hymn 
from  the  roads  and  fields  far  down  beneath  : 

"  Deep-en  de  woun'  dy  hands  have  made 
In  dis  weak,  helpless  soul." 


PATTY   CANNON'S.  317 

The  man  listened  with  awe  and  silence,  as  if  a  spirit 
hummed  the  tune,  and  forgot  his  doom  of  slavery  a  mo 
ment  in  the  deeper  anguish  of  a  treacherous  heart  that 
simple  hymn  bestirred.  It  was  only  Jimmy  Phoebus, 
thinking  what  he  could  say  to  punish  this  double  traitor 
most,  who  had  turned  his  back  upon  his  race  and  upon 
gratitude,  and  Jimmy  had  remembered  the  poor  woman 
chained  to  the  tree  on  Twiford's  island,  and  her  oft-reit 
erated  hymn;  and  the  conclusion  was  flashed  upon  his 
mind  that  the  mulatto  wretch  who  decoyed  her  away  and 
sold  her  was  none  other  than  his  renegade  fellow-pris 
oner,  in  turn  made  merchandise  of  because  too  danger 
ous  to  set  at  large  in  the  probable  hue-and-cry  for  her. 

"  Poor  Mary !"  Phcebus  slowly  spoke,  in  his  deepest 
tones,  with  solemn  cadence. 

The  wretched  man  listened  and  trembled. 

"Mary's  sperrit's  callin'  'Zeke  !'  "  Phcebus  continued, 
awful  in  his  inflection. 

The  miserable  procurer's  heart  stopped  at  the  words, 
and  his  eyeballs  turned  in  torment. 

"  Come,  Zeke  !  poor  Mary's  a-waitin'  for  ye  !"  cried 
the  sailor,  suddenly,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  and  as  sud 
denly  relapsed  into  the  low  singing  of  the  quiet  hymn 
again  : 

"  Deep-en  cle  woun'  dy  hands  have  made 

In  dis  weak,  helpless  soul, 
Till  mercy,  wid  its  mighty  aid 
De-seen  to  make  me  whole  ; 

Yes,  Lord  ! 
De-seen  to  make  me  whole." 

The  elegant  Iscariot,  at  the  thunder  of  the  invocation, 
had  reached  into  a  place  between  two  of  the  cypress 
shingles  in  the  roof,  where  he  had  hidden  the  sailor's 
knife,  the  blade  being  pressed  out  of  sight,  and  only  the 
handle  within  his  grasp.  It  had  been  overlooked  in  the 
exciting  scenes  of  the  previous  few  minutes,  and  now  re- 


318  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

curred  to  his  mind,  as  superstitious  passions  rolled  like 
dreadful  meteors  across  the  black  and  hopeless  chasm  of 
his  despairing  soul. 

When  the  low  drone  of  the  hymn  he  had  heard  his  vic 
tim  sing  to  her  baby,  when  her  faith  in  him  was  pure  and 
childlike,  crossed  his  maddened  ears  again,  he  raised  one 
shriek  of  "  Mercy  !"  to  which  no  answer  fell,  and  drew 
the  blade  across  his  throat  and  fell  dead  in  the  kidnap 
pers'  den. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

VAN    DORN. 

A  THIN  fur  of  frost  was  on  the  level  farm-lands,  and 
the  saffron  and  orange  leaves  were  falling  almost  audibly 
from  the  trees,  as  Levin  Dennis  awoke  on  Wednesday, 
in  the  long,  low  house  standing  back  in  the  fields  from 
Johnson's  cross-roads,  and  drank  in  the  cool,  stimulating 
morn,  the  sun  already  having  made  his  first  relay,  and 
his  postilion  horn  was  blowing  from  the  old  tavern  that 
reared  its  form  so  broadly  and  yet  so  steeply  in  plain 
sight. 

Levin  had  been  brought  up  from  Twiford's  wharf  the 
night  before  by  the  pretty  maid  whom  Jimmy  Phoebus 
had  so  much  frightened,  and  this  was  his  first  day  of  rest 
ful  feeling,  having  slept  off  the  liquor  fumes  of  Sunday, 
the  exciting  watches  of  Monday,  and  the  mingled  pleas 
ure  and  pain,  illness  and  interest,  love  and  remorse,  of 
Tuesday. 

He  had  felt  already  the  earliest  twinges  of  youthful 
fondness  for  the  young  girl  he  had  spent  the  day  with  at 
Twiford's,  while  lying  sick  there  from  a  disordered  stomach 
and  nervous  system,  and  her  amiability  and  charms,  more 
than  the  temptation  of  unhallowed  money,  had  changed 


VAN   DORN.  319 

his  purpose  to  escape  at  Twiford's  and  give  information 
of  the  injury  inflicted  upon  Judge  Custis's  property. 

It  hardly  seemed  real  that  he  had  been  an  accessory  to 
a  felony  and  a  witness  to  a  murder — the  stealing  of  a  gen 
tleman's  domestic  slaves  and  the  braining  of  the  smallest 
and  most  helpless  of  them,  nearly  in  his  sight ;  yet  so  it 
had  happened,  and  he  felt  the  danger  he  was  in,  but  hes 
itated  how  to  act.  He  had  accepted  the  money  of  the 
trader,  and  passed  his  mother's  noblest  friend  on  the 
river  without  recognition,  while  a  dastardly  ball  had  prob 
ably  ended  poor  Phcebus's  career.  To  all  these  deeds  he 
was  the  only  white  witness,  the  only  one  on  whose  testi 
mony  redress  could  be  meted  out. 

He  felt,  therefore,  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  and  his  life 
dependent  on  his  cordial  relations  with  the  bloody  negro- 
dealer  and  his  band ;  and  Johnson  had  reiterated  his 
promise  that  if  Levin  joined  them  in  equal  fraternity  he 
should  make  money  fast  and  become  a  plantation  pro 
prietor. 

This  night  coming,  a  raid  on  free  negroes  in  Delaware 
was  to  be  made  by  the  band  in  force,  and  Levin  had 
been  told  that  he  must  be  one  of  the  kidnappers,  and 
his  frank  co-operation  that  night  would  forever  relieve 
him  of  any  suspicions  of  defection  and  bad  faith. 

"  Steal  one  nigger,  Levin,"  Joe  Johnson  had  said, 
"  and  then  if  ever  caught  in  the  hock  you  never  can 
snickle !" 

Levin  interpreted  this  thieves'  language  to  mean  that 
he  must  do  a  crime  to  get  the  kidnappers'  confidence. 

The  power  of  this  band  he  had  divined  a  little  of  when, 
at  points  along  the  river,  especially  about  Vienna,  there 
had  been  mysterious  intercourse  between  Joe  Johnson 
and  people  on  the  shore,  carried  on  in  imitations  of  ani 
mal  sounds;  and  the  negro  ferryman  at  that  old  Dor 
chester  village  had  spoken  with  Johnson  only  half  an 
hour  before  the  trader's  encounter  with  Jimmy  Phcebus 


320  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

in  mid-stream,  whereupon  the  grim  passenger  had  pro 
duced  his  pistol  and  notified  Levin  : 

"  Now,  my  feller  prig,  honor's  what  I  expect  from  you, 
and,  to  remind  you  of  it,  Levin,  I'm  a-goin'  to  pint  this 
barking-iron  at  your  mummer,  so  that  if  you  patter  a 
cackle,  a  blue  plum  will  go  right  down  your  throat." 

He  had  then  tried  to  evade  some  one  expected  on  the 
river,  and,  in  a  fit  of  rage  at  the  awakening  and  wailing 
of  the  child,  had  hushed  it  forever,  and  then  had  shot 
Phcebus  down. 

Poor  Hominy  had  sincerely  believed  that  Johnson's 
peculiar  slang  was  the  language  of  the  good  Quakers,  fol 
lowers  of  Elias  Hicks,  who  sheltered  runaway  slaves  and 
spoke  a  "  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  and  "verily,"  and  that  strange 
misapprehension  in  her  ignorant  mind  the  keen  dealer 
had  made  use  of  to  decoy  her  into  Levin's  vessel  and  waft 
her  into  a  distant  country. 

"We  didn't  steal  her, Levin,"  Johnson  said  ;  "she  want 
ed  to  mizzle  from  a  good  master,  an'  we  jess  sells  the 
crooked  moke  an'  makes  it  squar." 

When  Aunt  Hominy,  having  under  her  protecting  care 
the  little  children,  came  on  board  the  Ellenora  Dennis  at 
Manokin  Landing,  Levin  had  been  asleep,  and  knew  noth 
ing  of  the  theft  till  it  was  too  late  to  protest,  and  Johnson 
himself  had  sailed  the  cat-boat  into  broad  water.  Then, 
bearing  through  Kedge's  Strait,  he  had  cruised  up  the 
open  bay,  out  of  sight  of  the  Somerset  shore,  and  entered 
the  Nanticoke  towards  night  by  way  of  Harper's  Strait, 
and  run  up  on  the  night  flood ;  but  the  instinct  of  Jimmy 
Phcebus  had  cut  him  off  at  the  forks  of  the  Nanticoke, 
and  propelled  another  crime  to  Johnson's  old  suspected 
record.  He  had  never  been  indicted  yet  for  murder, 
though  murder  was  thought  to  be  none  too  formidable  a 
crime  for  him. 

There  was  a  zest  of  adventure  in  this  guilty  errand, 
which,  but  for  its  crime,  would  have  pleased  Levin  mod- 


VAN   DORN.  321 

erately  well,  the  roving  drop  in  his  blood  expanding  to  this 
wild  association  ;  and  he  knew  but  little  comparatively  of 
the  Delaware  kidnappers,  reading  nothing,  and  in  those 
days  little  was  printed  about  Patty  Cannon's  band  except 
in  the  distant  journals  like  Niks'*  Register  or  Lundy's 
Genius  of  Emancipation.  Levin  had  never  sailed  up  the 
Nanticoke  region  before,  and  its  scenery  was  agreeable 
to  his  sight,  while  his  heart  was  just  fluttering  in  the  first 
flight  of  sentiment  towards  the  interesting  creature  he  had 
so  unexpectedly  and,  as  he  thought,  so  strangely  discov 
ered  there. 

Arriving  at  Twiford's  in  the  night,  Johnson  had  sent 
him  to  bed  there,  and  pushed  on  himself  with  the  negro 
property  to  Johnson's  Cross-roads ;  and,  when  he  awak 
ened  late  the  next  day,  Levin  had  found  a  beautiful  wild- 
flower  of  a  young  woman  sitting  by  his  pallet,  looking 
into  his  large  soft  eyes  with  her  own  long-lashed  orbs  of 
humid  gray,  and  brushing  his  dark  auburn  ringlets  with 
her  hand.  As  he  had  looked  up  wonderingly,  she  had 
said  to  him  : 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  man  before  with  his  hair  parted 
in  the  middle,  but  I  think  I  have  dreamed  of  one." 

"  Who  air  you  ?"  Levin  asked. 

"  Me  !  Oh,  I'm  Hulda.  I'm  Patty  Cannon's  grand 
daughter." 

"That  wicked  woman!"  Levin  exclaimed.  "Oh,  I 
can't  believe  that!" 

"  Nor  can  I  sometimes,  till  the  sinful  truth  comes  to 
me  from  her  own  bold  lips.  Oh,  sir,  I  am  not  as  wicked 
as  she!" 

"How  kin  you  be  wicked  at  all,"  Levin  asked,  "when 
you  look  so  good  ?  I  would  trust  your  face  in  jail." 

"  Would  you?  How  happy  that  makes  me,  to  be  trust 
ed  by  some  one  !  Nobody  seems  to  trust  me  here.  My 
mother  was  never  kind  to  me.  Captain  Van  Dorn  is 
kind, but  too  kind;  I  shrink  from  him." 

21 


322  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Where  is  your  mother  now  ?" 

"  She  has  gone  south  with  her  husband,  to  live  in  Flor 
ida  for  all  the  rest  of  her  life,  and  we  are  all  going  there 
after  father  gets  one  more  drove  of  slaves.  You  are  one 
of  father's  men,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Who  is  your  father?" 

"  Joe  Johnson." 

"  That  man,"  murmured  Levin.  "  Oh,  no,  it  is  too 
horrible." 

"  Do  not  hate  me.  Be  a  little  kind,  if  you  do,  for  I 
have  watched  you  here  hours,  almost  hoping  you  never 
might  wake  up,  so  beautiful  and  pure  you  looked  asleep." 

"  And  you— that's  the  way  you  look,  Huldy.  How  kin 
you  look  so  an'  be  his  daughter." 

"  I  am  not  his  child,  thank  God  !  He  is  my  step 
father." 

"What  is  your  name,  then,  besides  Huldy?" 

The  girl  blushed  deeply  and  hesitated.  Her  fine  gray 
eyes  were  turned  upon  her  beautiful  bare  feet,  white  as 
the  river  that  flashed  beneath  the  window. 

"  Hulcla  Bruinton,"  she  said,  swallowing  a  sigh. 

"Bruinton  —  where  did  I  hear  that  name?"  Levin 
asked;  "some  tale  has  been  told  me,  I  reckon,  about 
him?" 

"Yes,  everybody  knows  it,"  Hulcla  said,  in  a  voice  of 
pain  ;  "  he  was  hanged  for  murder  at  Georgetown  when  I 
was  a  little  child." 

Levin  could  not  speak  for  astonishment. 

"  I  might  as  well  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  for  others  will,  if 
I  conceal  it.  I  can  hardly  remember  my  father.  My 
mother  soon  married  Joe  and  neglected  me,  and  Aunt 
Patty,  my  grandmother,  brought  me  up.  She  was  kind 
to  me,  but,  oh,  how  cruel  she  can  be  to  others  !" 

"  You  talk  as  if  you  kin  read,  Huldy,"  said  Levin,  wish 
ing  to  change  so  harsh  a  topic  ;  "  kin  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  can  read  and  write  as  well  as  if  I  had  been  to 


VAN   DORN.  323 

school.  Some  one  taught  me  the  letters  around  the  tav 
ern — some  of  the  negro-dealers  :  I  think  it  was  Colonel 
McLane  ;  and  I  had  a  gift  for  it,  I  think,  because  I  began 
to  read  very  soon,  and  then  Aunt  Patty  made  me  read 
books  to  her — oh,  such  dreadful  books  !" 

«  What  wair  they,  Huldy  ?" 

"The  lives  of  pirates  and  the  trials  of  murderers — 
about  Murrell's  band  and  the  poisonings  of  Lucretia  Chap 
man,  the  execution  of  Thistlewood,  and  Captain  Kidd's 
voyages  ;  the  last  I  read  her  was  the  story  of  Burke  and 
Hare,  who  smothered  people  to  death  in  the  Canongate 
of  Edinburgh  last  year  to  sell  their  bodies  to  the  doc 
tors." 

"Must  you  read  such  things  to  her?" 

"  I  think  that  is  the  only  influence  I  have  over  her. 
Sometimes  she  looks  so  horribly  at  me,  and  mutters  such 
threats,  that  I  fear  she  is  going  to  kill  me,  and  so  I  hasten 
to  get  her  favorite  books  and  read  to  her  the  dark  crimes 
of  desperate  men  and  women,  and  she  laughs  and  listens 
like  one  hearing  pleasant  tales.  My  soul  grows  sick,  but 
I  see  she  is  fascinated,  and  I  read  on,  trying  to  close  my 
mind  to  the  cruel  narrative." 

"  Huldy,  air  you  a  purty  devil  drawin'  me  outen  my 
heart  to  ruin  me  ?" 

"  No,  no  ;  oh,  do  not  believe  that !  I  suppose  all  men 
are  cruel,  and  all  I  ever  knew  were  negro-traders,  or  I 
should  believe  you  too  gentle  to  live  by  that  brutal  work. 
I  looked  at  you  lying  in  this  bed,  and  pity  and  love  came 
over  me  to  see  you,  so  young  and  fair,  entering  upon  this 
life  of  treachery  and  sin." 

Levin  gazed  at  her  intently,  and  then  raised  up  and 
looked  around  him,  and  peered  down  through;  the  old  dor 
mers  into  the  green  yard,  and  the  floody  river  hastening 
by  with  such  nobility. 

"Air  we  watched?"  he  inquired. 

"  By  none  in  this  house.     All  the  men  are  away,  mak- 


324  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ing  ready  for  the  hunt  to-morrow  night.  The  river  is 
watched,  and  you  would  not  be  let  escape  very  far,  but  in 
this  house  I  am  your  jailer.  Joe  told  me  he  would  sell 
me  if  I  let  you  get  away." 

Levin  listened  and  looked  once  more  ardently  and 
wonderingly  at  her,  and  fell  upon  his  knees  at  her  uncov 
ered  feet. 

"  Then,  Huldy,  hear  me,  lady  with  such  purty  eyes, — I 
must  believe  in  'em,  wicked  as  all  you  look  at  has  been  ! 
I  never  stole  anything  in  my  life,  nor  trampled  on  a 
worm  if  I  could  git  out  of  his  path, — so  help  me  my  poor 
mother's  prayers  !  Huldy,  how  shall  I  save  myself  from 
these  wicked  men  and  the  laws  I  never  broke  till  Sunday? 
Oh,  tell  me  what  to  do !" 

"  Do  anything  but  commit  their  crimes,"  she  answered. 
"  Promise  me  you  will  never  do  that !  Let  us  begin,  and 
be  the  friends  I  wished  we  might  be,  before  I  ever  heard 
you  speak.  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"  Levin — Levin  Dennis.  My  father's  lost  to  me,  and 
mother,  too." 

"  Then  Heaven  has  answered  my  many  prayers,  Levin, 
to  give  me  something  to  cherish  and  protect.  I  am  al 
most  a  woman  :  oh,  what  is  my  dreadful  doom? — to  be 
come  a  woman  here  among  these  wolves  of  men,  who  meet 
around  my  stepfather's  tavern  to  buy  the  blood  and  souls 
of  people  born  free.  Joe  Johnson  sells  everything ;  he 
has  often  threatened  to  sell  me  to  some  trader  whose 
bold  and  wicked  eyes  stared  at  me  so  coarsely,  and  I 
have  heard  them  talk  of  a  price,  as  if  I  was  the  merchan 
dise  to  be  transferred — I,  in  whose  veins  every  drop  of 
blood  is  a  white  woman's." 

"  I  want  you  to  watch  over  me,  Huldy :  I'm  a  poor 
drunken  boy,  my  boat  chartered  to  Joe  Johnson  fur  a 
week  an'  paid  fur.  Tell  me  what  to  do,  an'  I'll  do  it." 

"  First,"  she  said,  "  you  must  eat  something  and  drink 
milk — nothing  stronger.  Their  brandy,  which  they  'still 


VAN    DORN.  325 

themselves,  sets  people  on  fire.  I  will  set  the  table  for 
you." 

It  was  after  the  table  had  been  set  that  Jimmy  Phoe 
bus  slipped  in  and  devoured  the  milk  and  meat,  over 
hearing  the  continuance  of  the  conversation  just  given  ; 
and  when  his  awkward  motions  had  disturbed  these  new 
young  friends,  Hulda  fainted  on  the  stairs  before  the  ap 
parition  Levin  did  not  see,  and  he  snatched  the  kiss  that 
was  like  plucking  a  pale-red  blossom  from  some  dragon's 
garden. 

That  night  two  horses  without  saddles  came  to  bring 
them  both  to  Johnson's  Cross-roads,  and  Levin  awoke  at 
Patty  Cannon's  old  residence  on  the  neighboring  farm. 

He  looked  out  of  the  small  window  in  the  low  roof 
upon  a  little  garden,  where  a  short,  stout,  powerfully  made 
woman,  barefooted,  was  taking  up  some  flowers  from  their 
beds  to  put  them  into  boxes  of  earth. 

"  Yer,  Huldy,"  exclaimed  this  woman,  "sot  'em  all  un 
der  the  glass  kivers,  honey,  so  grandmother  will  have 
some  flowers  for  her  hat  next  winter.  They  wouldn't 
know  ole  Patty  down  at  Cannon's  Ferry  ef  she  didn't 
come  with  flowers  in  her  hat." 

A  mischievous  blue-jay  was  in  a  large  cherry-tree,  ap 
parently  domesticated  there,  and  he  occupied  himself 
mimicking  over  the  woman's  head  the  alternate  cries  of 
a  little  bird  in  terror  and  a  hawk's  scream  of  victory. 

"  Shet  up,  you  thief!"  spoke  the  woman,  looking  up. 
"  Them  blue-jays,  gal,  the  niggers  is  afeard  of,  and  kills 
'em,  as  Ole  Nick's  eavesdroppers  and  tale  -  carriers. 
That's  why  I  keeps  'em  round  me.  They's  better  than  a 
watch-dog  to  bark  at  strangers,  and,  caze  they  steals  all 
their  life,  I  love  'em.  Blue-jay,  by  Ged !  is  ole  Pat  Can 
non's  bird." 

**  Grandma,"  Hulda  said,  "  I  wish  you  had  a  large,  ele 
gant  garden.  You  love  flowers." 

"Purty  things  I  always  would  have,"  exclaimed  the 


326  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

bulldog-bodied  woman,  with  an  oath;  "bright  things  I 
loved  when  I  was  a  gal,  and  traded  what  I  had  away  fur 
'em.  Direckly  I  got  big,  I  traded  ugly  things  fur  'em,  like 
niggers.  I'd  give  a  shipload  of  niggers  fur  an  apern  full 
of  roses." 

"  Florida,  they  say,  is  beautiful,  grandma,  and  flowers 
are  everywhere  there." 

"  Yes,  gal,  they  says  so ;  but  I  don't  never  expect  to 
go  thar.  Margaretty,  your  mommy,  likes  it  than  Dela 
ware's  my  home ;  some  of  'em  hates  me  yer,  and  the 
darned  lawyers  tries  to  indict  me,  but  I'll  live  on  the  line 
till  they  shoves  me  over  it,  whar  I've  been  cock  of  the 
walk  sence  I  was  a  gal." 

As  Hulda,  also  barefooted,  but  moulded  like  the  flowers, 
so  that  her  feet  seemed  natural  as  the  naked  roots,  car 
ried  the  boxes  around  to  the  glass  beds  encircling  a 
chimney — dahlias,  autumnal  crocuses  or  saffrons,  tri-col- 
ored  chrysanthemums  or  gold-flowers,  and  the  orange- 
colored  marigolds — the  elder  woman,  resting  on  her  hoe, 
smelled  the  turpentine  of  a  row  of  tall  sunflowers  and 
twisted  one  off  and  put  it  in  her  wide-brimmed  Leghorn 
hat. 

"  When  I  hornpipe  it  on  the  tight  rope,"  Levin  heard 
her  chuckle,  "  one  of  these  yer  big  flowers  must  die  with 
me." 

She  disappeared  into  the  peach  orchard,  which  tinted 
the  garden  with  its  pinkish  boughs,  and  Levin  improved 
the  chance  to  look  over  the  cottage  aud  the  landscape. 

It  was  a  mere  farm,  level  as  a  floor,  part  of  a  larger 
clearing  in  the  primeval  woods,  where  only  fire  or  age  had 
preyed  since  man  was  come  ;  and,  although  there  seemed 
more  land  than  belonged  to  this  property,  no  other  house 
could  Levin  see  over  all  the  prospect  except  the  bold  and 
tarnished  form  of  Johnson's  castle,  sliding  its  long  porch 
forward  at  the  base  of  that  tall,  blank,  inexpressive  roof 
which  seemed  suspended  like  the  drab  curtain  of  a  thea- 


VAN   DORN.  327 

tre  between  the  solemn  chimney  towers;  the  northern 
chimney  broad  and  huge,  and  bottomed  on  an  arch ;  the 
southern  chimney  leaner,  but  erect  as  a  perpetual  sentry 
on  the  King's  road. 

The  house  where  Levin  Dennis  now  looked  out  was  a 
three-roomed,  frame,  double  cabin,  with  beds  in  every  room 
but  the  kitchen,  and  the  hip-roof  gave  considerable  bed 
accommodation  in  the  attic  besides,  the  rooms  being  all 
small,  as  was  general  in  that  day.  Around  the  house  ex 
tended  a  pretty  garden,  with  some  cherry  and  plum  trees 
and  wild  peach  along  its  boundaries,  and  the  fields  around 
contained  many  stumps,  showing  that  the  clearing  had 
been  made  not  many  years  before,  while  here  and  there 
some  heaps  of  brush  had  been  allowed  to  accumulate  in 
stead  of  being  burned. 

As  Levin  looked  at  one  of  those  brush-heaps  in  a  low 
place,  a  pair  of  buzzards  slowly  and  clumsily  circled  up 
from  it,  and,  flying  low,  went  round  and  round  as  if  they 
might  be  rearing  their  young  there  and  hated  to  go  far ; 
and,  for  long  afterwards,  Levin  saw  them  hovering  high 
above  the  spot  in  parental  mindfulness. 

He  drew  his  head  in  the  dormer  casement,  and  was 
making  ready  to  go  down  to  the  breakfast  he  smelled 
cooking  below,  when  his  own  name  was  pronounced  in 
the  garden,  and  he  stopped  and  listened. 

"  You  lie  !"  exclaimed  the  old  woman's  voice.  "  I'll 
mash  you  to  the  ground !" 

"He  said  so,  grandma,  indeed  he  did." 

Levin  had  a  peep  from  the  depths  of  the  garret,  and  he 
saw  that  Mrs.  Cannon  was  standing  with  the  hoe  she  had 
been  using  raised  over  Hulda's  head,  while  a  demoniac 
expression  of  rage  distorted  her  not  unpleasing  features. 

Levin  walked  at  once  to  the  window  and  whistled,  as  if 
to  the  bird  in  the  tree.  The  older  woman  immediately 
dropped  her  hoe,  and  cried  out  to  Levin  : 

"  Heigh,  son !  ain't  you  most  a-starved  fur  yer  break- 


328  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

fast  ?  It's  all  ready  fur  ye,  an'  Huldy's  waitin'  fur  ye  to 
come  down." 

Levin  at  once  went  down  the  short,  winding  stairs  to  a 
table  spread  in  the  kitchen  end,  and  the  old  woman  blew 
a  tin  horn  towards  Johnson's  Cross-roads,  as  if  summon 
ing  other  boarders,  and  then  she  said  to  Levin,  with  a 
very  pleasing  countenance : 

"  Son,  these  yer  no-count  people  will  be  askin'  you  ques 
tions  to  bother  you,  and  I  don't  want  no  harm  to  come  to 
you,  Levin  ;  so  you  tell  everybody  you  see  yer  that  Levin 
Cannon  is  your  name,  and  they'll  think  you's  juss  one  o' 
my  people,  and  won't  ask  you  no  more." 

Hulda  slightly  raised  her  eyes,  which  Levin  took  to 
mean  assent,  and  he  said  : 

"  Cannon's  good  enough  for  a  body  pore  as  me." 

"You're  a-goin'  with  Joe  to-night,  ain't  you?" 

"  Yes'm,  I  b'leeves  so." 

"That's  right,  cousin.  You'll  git  rich  an'  keep  your 
chariot,  yit.  Captain  Van  Dorn's  gwyn  to  head  the  party. 
As  Levin  Cannon,  ole  Patty's  pore  cousin,  he'll  look  out 
fur  you,  son.  Now  have  some  o'  my  slappers,  an'  jowl 
with  eggs,  an'  the  best  coffee  from  Cannon's  Ferry.  Huldy, 
gal,  help  yer  Cousin  Levin  !  He  won't  be  your  sweetheart 
ef  you  don't  feed  him  good." 

The  breakfast  was  brought  in  by  a  white  man  with  a 
face  scratched  and  bitten,  and  one  eye  full  of  congested 
blood. 

"Cy,"  Patty  Cannon  cried,  "them  slappers,  I  'spect, 
you  had  hard  work  to  turn  with  that  red  eye  Owen  Daw 
give  you." 

"  I'll  brown  both  sides  of  him  yit,  when  I  git  the  griddle 
ready  for  him,"  the  man  exclaimed,  half  snivelling. 

"  Before  you  raise  gizzard  enough  for  that,  little  Owen'll 
peck  outen  yer  eyes,  Cy,  like  a  crow;  he's  game  enough 
to  tackle  the  gallows.  You  may  git  even  with  him  thar, 
Cy." 


VAN   DORN.  329 

The  man  turned  his  cowardly,  serving  countenance  on 
Levin  inquisitively,  and  looked  sullen  and  ashamed  at 
Hulda,  who  observed : 

"  Cyrus,  you  are  not  fit  for  the  rude  boys  around  fa 
ther's  tavern,  who  always  impose  on  you.  Please  don't 
go  there  again." 

"Where  else  kin  he  go?"  inquired  Patty  Cannon,  se 
verely  ;  "  thar  ain't  no  church  left  nigh  yer,  sence  Chapel 
Branch  went  to  rot  for  want  of  parsons'  pay.  Let  him  go 
to  the  tavern  and  learn  to  fight  like  a  man,  an'  if  the  boys 
licks  him,  let  him  kill  some  of  'em.  Then  Joe  and  the 
Captain  kin  make  somethin'  of  Cy  James,  an'  people 
around  yer'll  respect  him.  Why,  Captain,  honey,  ain't  ye 
hungry?" 

This  was  addressed  to  a  man  with  several  bruises  on 
his  forehead,  and  an  enormous  flaxen  mustache,  as  soft 
in  texture  as  a  child's  hair — a  man  wearing  delicate  boots 
with  high  Flemish  leggings,  that  curled  over  and  showed 
full  women's  hose  of  red,  over  which  were  buckled  trou 
sers  of  buff  corduroy,  covering  his  thighs  only,  and  fast 
ened  above  his  hips  by  a  belt  of  hide.  His  shirt  was  of 
blue  figured  stuff,  and  his  loose,  unbuttoned  coat  was  a 
kind  of  sailor's  jacket  of  tarnished  black  velvet.  He  hung 
a  broad  slouched  hat  of  a  yellowish-drab  color,  soft,  like 
all  his  clothing,  upon  a  peg  in  the  wall,  and  bowed  to 
Hulda  first  with  a  smile  of  welcome,  to  Madame  Cannon 
cavalierly,  and  to  Levin  with  a  graceful  reserve  that  at 
tracted  the  boy's  attention  from  the  notorious  woman  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  and  held  him  interested  during  all 
the  meal. 

"Pretty  Hulda,  I  salute  you!  Patty,  buenos  diets !  I 
hope  I  see  you  well,  friend !" — the  last  to  Levin. 

As  he  took  up  his  knife  and  fork  Levin  observed  a 
ring,  with  a  pure  white  diamond  in  it,  flash  upon  the  Cap 
tain's  hand.  He  was  a  blue-eyed  man,  with  a  blush  and 
a  lisp  at  once,  as  of  one  shy,  but  at  times  he  would  look 


33°  "HE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

straight  and  bold  at  some  one  of  the  group,  and  then  he 
seemed  to  lose  his  delicacy  and  become  coarse  and  cold. 
One  such  look  he  gave  at  Hulcla,  who  bowed  her  eyes 
before  it,  and  looked  at  him  but  little  again. 

To  Levin  this  man  had  the  greatest  fascination,  partly 
from  his  extraordinary  dress — like  costumes  Levin  had 
seen  at  the  theatre  in  Baltimore,  where  the  pirates  on  the 
stage  wore  a  jacket  and  open  shirt  and  belt  similar  in  cut 
though  not  in  material — and  partly  from  his  countenance, 
in  which  was  something  very  familiar  to  the  boy,  though 
he  racked  his  memory  in  vain  for  the  time  and  place. 
The  stranger  was  hardly  more  than  forty  to  forty-five 
years  of  age,  but  the  mistress  of  the  house  treated  him 
with  all  the  blandishments  of  a  husband. 

"  Dear  Captain  !  pore  honey  !"  she  said  ;  "  to  have  his 
beautiful  yaller  hair  tored  out  by  the  nigger  hawk  !  Hon 
ey,  he  fell  onto  me,  and  I  thought  a  bull  had  butted  me 
in  the  stummick." 

"  He  broke  no  limbs,  Patty,"  the  captain  lisped,  feed 
ing  himself  in  a  dainty  way — and  Levin  observed  that  his 
fork  was  silver,  and  his  knife  was  a  clasp-knife  with  a  sil 
ver  handle,  that  he  had  taken  from  his  pocket — "C/iisJ 
chis  !  if  he  had  snapped  my  arm,  the  caravan  must  have 
gone  without  me  to-night.  I  am  sore,  though,  for  Sefior 
was  a  valiant  wrestler." 

"  He'll  git  his  pay,  honey,  when  they  sot  him  to  work  in 
Georgey  an'  flog  him  right  smart,  an'  we  spend  the  price 
of  him  fur  punch.  He,  he!  lovey  lad!'' 

"  I  took  this  from  him  to-day  when  I  searched  him 
carefully,"  the  captain  said,  handing  Patty  Cannon  a  piece 
of  silver  coin. 

The  woman,  though  she  looked  to  be  little  more  than 
fifty  years  of  age,  drew  out  spectacles  of  silver  from  an  old 
leather  case,  and  putting  them  on,  spelled  out  the  coin  : 

"  George — three — eighteen — eighteen  hunderd-and-fif- 
teen  !" 


VAN    DORN.  331 

She  threw  up  her  head  so  quickly  that  the  spectacles 
dropped  from  her  nose,  and  Hulda  caught  them,  and 
then  Mrs.  Cannon  turned  on  Hulda  with  a  ferocious  ex 
pression  and  snatched  the  spectacles  from  her  hand. 

"  Whar  did  the  devil  git  it  ?"  Patty  Cannon  asked. 

"  Ah  !  who  knows  ?"  the  Captain  lisped  with  pale  non 
chalance,  giving  one  of  those  strong,  piercing  looks  he 
sometimes  afforded,  right  into  the  hostess's  eyes.  "  It 
might  be  a  coincidence:  chis !  chito !  A  shilling  of  a 
certain  year  is  no  rare  thing.  But,  Madame  Cannon,  it 
becomes  slightly  curious  when  six  such  shillings,  all  num 
bered  with  that  significant  year,  came  out  of  the  same 
pocket !" 

With  this  he  passed  five  shillings  of  the  same  appear 
ance  over  to  the  hostess,  and  she  put  on  her  spectacles 
again  and  looked  at  them  all,  and  dropped  them  in  her 
lap  with  a  weary  yet  frightened  expression,  and  mut 
tered  : 

"  Van  Dorn,  who  kin  he  be  ?" 

"  That  is  of  less  consequence,  my  clear,  than  whether 
we  can  afford  to  sell  him." 

The  Captain  was  now  looking  at  Hulda  with  the  same 
strong  intentness,  but  her  eyes  were  in  her  plate ;  and, 
though  Madame  Cannon  looked  at  her,  too,  with  both  in 
terest  and  dislike,  Hulda  quietly  ate  on,  unconscious  of 
their  regard. 

"Shoo!"  the  woman  said;  "people  kin  scare  their- 
selves  every  day  if  they  mind  to.  We've  got  him,  and,  if 
he  knows  anything,  it's  all  in  that  nigger  noddle.  So 
eat  and  be  derned  !" 

"  My  guardian  angel,"  the  Captain  remarked,  with  a 
blush  and  a  stronger  lisp,  "you  may  not  have  observed 
that  I  have  never  ceased  to  eat,  while  you  immediately 
lost  your  appetite.  What  will  you  do  with  the  shil 
lings  ?" 

Mrs.  Cannon  took  them  from  her  lap,  and  rose  as  if 


33  2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

she  meant  to  throw  them  out  of  the  window,  her  angry 
face  bearing  that  interpretation. 

"Stop,  remarkable  woman,"  the  Captain  said,  pulling 
his  soft,  flaxen  mustache  with  the  diamond-flashing  hand, 
"  let  your  fecund  resources  stop  and  counsel,  for  I  am 
only  looking  to  your  happiness,  that  has  so  abundantly 
blessed  my  life  and  banished  every  superstition  from  my 
heart,  till  I  believe  in  neither  ghosts,  nor  God,  nor  devil, 
while  you  believe  in  all  of  them,  and  give  yourself  many 
such  unnecessary  friends  and  intruders.  Chito  !  chito  !  as 
the  Cubans  say,  and  hear  my  suggestion  before  you  throw 
away  those  shillings !" 

"  Take  care  how  you  mock  me !"  cried  Patty  Cannon, 
with  her  dark,  bold  eyes  furtive,  like  one  both  angered 
and  troubled,  and  her  ruddy  cheeks  full  of  cloudy  blood. 

"  Sit  down  !    Give  the  shillings  to  pretty  Hulda  there." 

"To  her?" 

"  Yat  ya  !  to  pleasing  Hulda ;  for  what  will  trouble  us 
then,  her  sinless  bosom  being  their  safe  depository,  and 
her  long-lashed  eyes  melting  our  ghosts  to  gray  air  ?" 

With  a  look  of  strong  dislike,  the  woman  gave  Hulda 
the  shillings,  saying : 

"  If  you  ever  show  one  of 'em  to  me,  gal,  I'll  make  you 
swaller  it." 

Hulda  took  the  silver  pieces  and  looked  at  them  a  mo 
ment  with  girlish  delight  : 

"  Oh,  grandma,  how  kind  you  are  !  Why  do  you  speak 
so  mad  at  me  when  you  give  me  these  pretty  things  ? 
They  seem  almost  warm  in  my  bosom  as  I  put  them 
there,  like  things  with  life.  Let  me  kiss  you  for  them  !" 

She  rose  from  the  chair  and  approached  the  mistress 
of  the  house,  who  sat  in  a  strange  terror,  not  forbidding 
the  embrace,  yet  almost  shuddering  as  Hulda  stooped 
and  pressed  her  pure  young  lips  to  the  blanched  and  dis 
sipated  face  of  Patty  Cannon. 

The    Captain    looked    at   the    kiss  with  his   peculiar 


VAN   DORN.  333 

strong,  cold  look,  and  smiled  at  Hulda  graciously  and 
said : 

"  There,  ladies,  repose  in  each  other's  confidence !  A 
few  shillings  for  such  a  kiss  is  shameful  pay,  Aunt  Patty. 
Do  you  remember  as  well  as  I  do,  Madame  Cannon,  that 
once  you  missed  some  money.,  and  thought  your  mother 
had  stolen  it,  and  hunted  everywhere  for  it,  and  it  never 
came  to  light?" 

"  Yes,"  cried  Patty  Cannon,  "I  do,"  and  swore  a  man's 
oath. 

"  Has  the  Senor  been  in  that  direction,  do  you  think  ? 
I  think  he  has,  for  Melson  and  Milman  are  up  from  Twi- 
ford's  with  the  news  that  Zeke's  last  hide  has  burst  her 
chain  and  fled,  and  all  the  lower  Nanticoke  gives  no  trace 
of  her,  and  Zeke  has  passed  the  heavenly  gates." 

The  Captain  drew  the  back  of  his  silver  clasp-knife 
across  his  throat,  smilingly,  and  placed  on  the  table  a 
sailor's  sheath-knife. 

"  Zeke  only  was  untied;  it  was  a  too  generous  omission," 
he  said.  "The  Philadelphia  woman  the  Senor  says  he 
set  free,  and  that  she  has  gone  to  start  an  alarm  against 
us.  The  Senor  is  a  cool  man  :  he  told  me  that,  and 
laughed  and  roared,  and  says  he  will  live  to  see  us  all  in 
a  picture-frame.  Ayme,  ayme,  Patty  !" 

With  her  face  growing  longer  and  longer,  the  woman 
heard  these  scarcely  intelligible  sentences — wholly  unin 
telligible  to  the  younger  people — and  to  Levin  it  seemed 
that  she  grew  suddenly  old  and  yet  older,  till  her  cheeks, 
but  lately  blooming,  seemed  dead  and  wrinkled,  and,  from 
maintaining  the  appearance  of  hardly  fifty,  and  fair  at 
that,  she  now  looked  to  be  more  than  sixty  years  of  age, 
and  sad  and  helpless. 

"  Van  Dorn,  I'm  dying,"  she  muttered,  as  her  eyes 
glazed,  and  she  settled  down  in  her  chair  like  a  lump  of 
dough. 

"ffa!  O  hala  hala!  hands  off,  fair  Hulda,"  the  Cap- 


334  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

tain  cried,  joyfully,  as  Hulda  had  been  moved  to  relieve 
the  poor  old  woman  ;  "  no  one  shall  assist  at  these  cere 
monies  of  expiation  but  Van  Dorn  himself,  whose  rights 
in  Mistress  Cannon  are  of  priority.  She's  dropsical,  and 
hastening  to  perdition  too  soon,  which  I  must  arrest  and 
let  her  comfort  me  still  more.  Sweet  comforter  !  Young 
gentleman,  you  shall  help  me." 

Levin  took  hold  of  Patty  Cannon's  feet  and  found  that 
she  seemed  made  of  bone,  so  tough  were  her  sinews,  and 
Van  Dorn  easily  lifted  her  broad  shoulders,  and  so  she 
was  laid  on  a  bed  in  the  next  room,  where  the  elegant 
Captain  was  seen  rubbing  her  limbs,  and  even  handling 
a  bottle  of  leeches,  one  of  which  he  allowed  to  crawl  over 
the  hand  that  wore  the  diamond,  making  it  look  like  a 
ruby  melting  or  in  living  motion.  As  this  voracious 
blood-lover  took  his  fill  around  the  straight  ankles  of  the 
hostess,  the  dainty  Captain  held  her  in  his  arms  like  an 
ardent  lover. 

"  Honey,"  sighed  the  woman,  "  my  rent  is  due,  and 
Jake  Cannon  never  waits.  Take  Huldy  and  this  yer  new 
recruit,  my  cousin  Levin  Cannon,  an'  drive  'em  to  the 
ferry, — an'  watch  that  boy,  Van  Dorn  :  I  want  him  broke 
in  !  Give  him  a  pistol  and  a  knife,  an'  have  him  cut 
somebody.  Put  the  blood-mark  on  him  and  he's  ours." 

"  Great  woman  !"  the  Captain  lisped,  prolific  of  his  kiss 
es,  "  Maria  Theresa  !  Semiramis  !  Agrippina  !  Cleopatra  ! 
ever  fecund  in  great  ideas  and  growing  youthful  by  night 
shade,  «//<?/  quedo!  but  I  love  thee!" 

"  Am  I  young  a  little  yit,  honey  ?"  asked  Patty  Cannon. 
"  Oh,  don't  deceive  me,  Van  Dorn  !  Can  my  eyes  look 
love  an'  hate,  like  old  times  ?" 

"Sif  guizd/  More  and  more,  dark  angel,  entering 
into  black  age  like  torches  in  a  cave,  I  see  your  deep 
eyes  flame  ;  but  never  do  they  please  me,  Patty,  as  when 
they  flash  on  some  new  wicked  idea,  like  this  of  marking 
the  boy  for  life.  Who  is  he  ?" 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  335 

"He's  a  Cannon,  one  of  the  stock  that  my  Delaware 
man  belonged  to.  His  mother  looked  clown  on  me  fur 
coining  in  their  family  :  I  have  remembered  her." 

"  You  want  your  young  cousin  made  a  felon,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  honey,  I  want  him  scorched,  so  the  devil  will 
know  him  fur  his  own." 

The  Captain  reached  down  to  the  lady's  feet  and  pulled 
off  the  leech  and  held  it  up  against  his  hollow  palm, 
gorged  with  the  blood  of  the  fair  patient. 

"  See,  Patty  !  The  boy  shall  drink  blood  like  this,  till, 
drunk  with  it,  he  can  hold  on  no  more,  and  drops  into 
our  fate  as  in  this  vial." 

As  he  spoke  he  let  the  leech  fall  in  the  bottle,  where 
its  reflection  in  the  glass  seemed  to  splash  blood. 

"Ha,  ha!  Van  Dorn,  I  love  you!"  the  woman  cried, 
and  smothered  him  with  caresses. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
CANNON'S   FERRY. 

WHEN  it  was  announced  to  Levin  and  Hulda,  who  had 
meantime  been  talking  in  the  garden,  dangerously  near 
the  subject  of  love,  that  they  were  to  be  given  a  ride  to 
Cannon's  Ferry  with  Captain  Van  Dorn,  at  the  especial 
desire  of  Aunt  Patty  Cannon — who  also  sent  them  a 
handful  of  half-cents  to  spend — they  were  both  delight 
ed,  though  Hulda  said  : 

"  Dear  Levin,  if  it  was  only  ourselves  going  for  good, 
how  happy  we  might  be  !  I  could  live  with  your  beauti 
ful  mother  and  work  for  her,  and,  knowing  me  to  be  al 
ways  there,  you  would  bring  your  money  home  instead  of 
wasting  it." 

"Can't  we  do  so  some  way?"  asked  Levin.  "Oh,  I 
wish  I  had  some  sense  !  I  wish  Jimmy  Phcebus  was  yer, 


336  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

Huldy,  to  take  me  out  thair  in  the  garden  an'  whip  me 
like  my  father.  But,  if  I  hadn't  come  yer,  how  could  I 
have  seen  you,  Huldy  ?" 

"  How  could  I  have  spent  such  a  heavenly  night  of 
peace  and  hope  if  you  had  not  come,  dear?  The  Good 
Being  must  have  led  you  to  me." 

"Huldy,"  said  Levin,  after  thinking  to  the  range  of  his 
knowledge,  "  maybe  thar's  a  post-office  at  Cannon's  Fer 
ry,  an'  you  kin  write  a  letter  to  Jack  Wonnell  fur  me." 

"  Why  not  to  your  mother,  Levin  ?" 

"Oh,  I  am  ashamed  to  tell  her;  it  would  kill  her." 

"  If  we  should  be  found  out,  Levin,  Aunt  Patty  would 
kill  me.  There  is  no  paper  here,  no  ink  that  I  can  get, 
the  postage  on  a  letter  is  almost  nineteen  cents,  and, 
look  !  these  half-cents  are  short  of  the  sum  by  just  two." 

"  I  have  gold,"  cried  Levin,  thinking  of  the  residue  of 
Joe  Johnson's  bounty. 

He  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  but  the  money  was 
no  longer  there. 

"Hush  !"  cried  Hulda,  "you  have  been  robbed.  Ev 
erybody  is  robbed  who  sleeps  here.  Grandma  can  smell 
gold  like  the  rat  that  finds  yellow  cheese." 

The  individual  who  had  served  the  breakfast  was  seen 
coming  towards  them,  a  man  in  size,  with  a  low  forehead, 
no  chin  to  speak  of,  a  long,  crane  neck,  and  a  badly 
scratched  and  festered  face. 

"Mister,"  he  said  to  Levin,  "come  help  me  hitch  the 
horses ;  I'm  beat  so  I  can't  see  how." 

Levin  started  at  once,  suggesting  to  Hulda  to  make 
search  for  his  missing  money,  and,  when  they  were  in  the 
little  stable,  the  man  observed,  in  a  whisper,  to  Levin  : 

"  By  smoke !" 

Levin  went  on  putting  the  bridles  and  breeching  on  the 
horses,  when  the  man  said  again,  with  an  insinuating  grin  : 

"By  smoke!" 

"  Heigh  ?"  exclaimed  Levin. 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  337 

"  By  smoke  !"  the  man  remarked  again,  with  a  very  ar 
dent  emphasis. 

"  You  must  have  been  in  Prencess  Anne,"  Levin  said, 
"  to  swar  '  by  smoke.'  " 

The  ill-raised  man,  with  such  an  inferior  head  and 
cranish  neck,  now  slipped  around  to  the  front  of  Levin 
and  looked  down  on  him,  arid  whispered : 

"Hokey-pokey!" 

The  idea  crossed  Levin's  mind  that  the  scullion  of 
Patty  Cannon  must  have  gone  crazy. 

"Whair  did  you  pick  up  them  words,  Cy?"  Levin 
asked. 

"  Hokey-pokey  !"  answered  Cy  James,  with  a  more  mys 
terious  and  impressive  sufflation  ;  "  Hokey-pokey  !  By 
smoke !  and  Pangymonum,  too  !" 

"  Why,  Cy !  what  do  you  mean  ?  Jimmy  Phcebus  never 
swars  but  in  them  air  words.  Do  you  know  Jimmy  Phce 
bus  ?" 

"  Pangymonum,  too  !"  hissed  Cy  James,  with  every  ani 
mation.  "  Hokey-pokey,  three  !  an'  By  smoke,  one  !" 

He  put  his  long  arms  on  his  knees,  and  bent  down 
like  a  great  goose,  and  stared  into  Levin's  eyes. 

"I  never  had  sense  enough,"  Levin  said, "to  guess  a  rid 
dle,  Cy  Jeems.  Them  words  I  have  hearn  a  good  man — 
my  mother's  friend — use  so  often  that  they  scare  me.  My 
mind's  been  a-thinkin'  on  him  night  an'  day.  Oh,  is  he 
dead  ?" 

"By  smoke!  Hokey-pokey!  an' Pangymonum,  too  !" 
the  long,  lean,  excited  fellow  whispered,  with  the  greatest 
solemnity. 

"They're  Jimmy  Phcebus's  daily  words,  dear  Cyrus. 
He  was  killed  on  the  river  night  before  last;  I  saw  him 
fall ;  it  is  my  sin  and  misery." 

"  He  ain't  dead,"  Cy  James  whispered,  very  low  and 
carefully.  "  I  won't  tell  you  whar  he  is  till  you  make 
Huldy  like  me." 

22 


338  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  How  kin  I  do  that,  Cy  ?" 

"  She  thinks  I'm  a  coward  and  gits  whipped  by  Owen 
Daw.  Tell  her  I  ain't  no  coward.  Tell  her  I'm  goin'  to 
fry  all  these  people  on  my  griddle — all  but  Huldy.  Tell 
her  I'm  only  playin'  coward  till  I  gets  'em  all  in  batter 
an'  the  griddle  greased,  an'  then  I'll  be  the  bully  of  the 
Cross-roads !" 

"  Do  you  hate  me,  Cy  Jeemes  ?  I  ain't  done  nothin'  to 
you.  I'm  a  prisoner  here  till  I  kin  git  my  boat  back 
from  Joe  an'  go  to  Prencess  Anne." 

"  I  won't  hate  you  if  you  kin  make  Huldy  love  me,"  Cy 
James  replied.  "  Tell  her  I  ain't  no  coward ;  that  I'm 
goin'  to  be  free,  an'  rich  too."  He  dropped  his  palms  to 
his  knees  again,  and  whispered,  "  fur  I  know  whar  ole 
Patty  buries  her  gole  an'  silver  !" 

"  Come  with  those  horses,  you  idle  lads,"  the  lisping 
voice  of  the  Captain  was  heard  to  call.  "  Ya,  ya  !  there, 
luego!  the  morning  passes  on." 

"  All  ready,"  Cy  James  replied,  and  as  they  left  the 
stable  door  he  whispered  once  again,  and  looked  signifi 
cantly  towards  Johnson's  Cross-roads : 

"  By  smoke  !  Hokey-pokey  !  an'  Pangymonum,  too  !" 

The  Captain,  looking  like  a  gentleman  of  the  knightly 
ages  misplaced  in  this  forest  lair,  held  the  reins  standing 
on  the  ground,  and  handed  Hulda  in  to  the  seat  beside 
his  own  with  a  grace  and  a  blush  and  a  lisping  laugh  that, 
Levin  thought,  were  very  fascinating. 

"  Now,  Master  Cannon,  take  your  place  in  the  tail  of 
the  vehicle,"  the  Captain  said,  bowing  to  Levin,  and  dart 
ing  one  of  those  cold,  coarse  looks  at  him  that  he  vouch 
safed  but  for  a  moment,  like  a  soft  cat  that  has  all  the 
nature  of  the  rabbit  except  the  tiger's  glare. 

The  vehicle  was  an  old  wagon  without  springs,  and 
Levin's  seat  was  a  piece  of  board,  while  Hulda's  had  a 
back  to  it,  and  the  Captain  had  padded  it  with  a  bear's- 
skin  robe.  He  looked  with  the  most  delicate  attention 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  339 

at  Hulda,  blushed  when  she  looked  at  him,  and,  scarcely 
noticing  the  horses,  yet  having  them  under  nearly  auto 
matic  control,  he  drove  out  of  Patty  Cannon's  lane  and 
turned  into  the  woods. 

Levin  cast  one  long,  prying  look  at  Johnson's  tavern, 
wishing  he  might  have  the  gift  to  see  through  its  weather- 
stained  planking  and  tall  blank  roof,  and  then  he  watched 
the  road,  of  hard  sand  or  piney  litter,  with  here  and  there 
a  mud-hole  or  long,  puddly  rut  in  it,  unravel  like  a  ribbon 
behind  the  wheels  among  the  thick  pines. 

He  also  observed  the  skill  with  which  the  Captain 
threw  his  long  cowhide  whip,  a  mere  strip  of  rawhide 
fastened  to  a  stick,  awkward  in  other  hands;  but  Van 
Dorn  could  brush  a  fly  from  either  of  the  short,  shaggy 
Delaware  horses  with  it,  and  hardly  look  where  he  struck 
or  disturb  the  horse,  and  he  could  deliver  a  blow  with  it 
by  mere  sleight  that  made  the  animal  stagger  and  trem 
ble  with  the  abrupt  pain. 

At  a  little  sandy  rill,  the  only  one  they  crossed,  a  long 
water-snake  endeavored  to  escape  before  the  rapid  wagon 
could  strike  it,  but  the  Captain  rose  to  his  feet  quick  and 
cat-like,  and  projected  the  long  lash  into  the  roadside, 
and  the  snake  writhed  and  bounded  in  the  air  almost  cut 
in  two.  Then,  sitting  again  and  bending  so  close  to 
Hulda  that  his  long,  downy  mustache  of  gold  touched 
her  cheek,  Van  Dorn  said,  softly  : 

"Que  hermoso  !  Young  wild-flower,  let  me  take  a  snake 
out  of  your  path  also  ?" 

"  Which  one,  Captain  ?" 

"It  does  not  matter.     Name  any  one." 

"  Alas  !"  said  Hulda,  "  I  am  of  them  ;  how  can  I  wish 
harm  to  my  stepfather  and  my  grand-dame  ?  They  are 
not  what  I  wish,  but  I  am  commanded  to  honor  them." 

"  By  whom,  fair  Hulda  ?" 

"By  God.  I  read  it  in  the  Book  after  I  heard  it  from 
a  slave." 


34°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Dbnde  estd!  What  slave  that  we  know  was  so  God- 
read  ?" 

"  Poor  drunken  Dave.  He  was  a  good  man  before  he 
knew  us.  He  told  me  all  the  Commandments  for  a  drink 
of  brandy,  and  I  wrote  them  down  and  afterwards  I  found 
them  in  a  book." 

"Chis  /  chito  /  how  graceful  is  your  mind,  Hulda  !  It 
comes  out  of  the  absolute  blank  of  your  condition  and 
discovers  things,  as  the  young  osprey,  untaught  before, 
knows  where  to  dive  for  fish.  Who  that  ever  comes  to 
Johnson's  Cross-roads  brings  the  Bible  ?" 

"  Colonel  McLane." 

"He?  the  self-righteous  crocodile!  he  gave  you  the 
Book  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  told  me  Joe  and  grandma  were  good  peo 
ple — *  conservative  good  people,'  I  think  he  called  it ; 
but  he  said  you  believed  nothing,  and  there  was  no 
basis,  I  think  he  called  it,  for  ' conservative  good'  in 
you." 

"O  halahala!  But  this  is  good,"  the  Captain  softly 
remarked,  stroking  his  golden  mustache  with  the  hand 
that  carried  the  lustrous  ring.  "  Patty  Cannon  may  be 
saved ;  I  must  be  damned ;  and  Allan  McLane  will  sit 
in  judgment.  No,  I  believe  nothing,  because  such  as  they 
believe !" 

"That  is  why  nobody  likes  you,"  Hulda  frankly  ob 
served,  "  agreeable  as  you  are." 

"And  can  you  believe  in  anything  after  the  surround 
ings  of  your  childhood,  touching  crime  like  the  pond-lily 
that  grows  among  the  water-snakes  ?" 

"The  lily  cannot  help  it,  and  is  just  as  white  as  if  it 
grew  under  glass,  because — •" 

"  Because  the  lily  has  none  of  the  blood  of  the  snake  ?" 
the  captain  lisped.  "  Do  you  enter  that  claim  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Hulda ;  "  I  know  I  am  born  from  wicked 
parents,  a  daughter  of  crime,  my  father  hanged,  my  moth- 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  341 

er  of  dreadful  origin,  but  never  have  I  felt  that  God  held 
me  accountable  for  their  works  if  I  kept  my  heart  hum 
ble  and  my  hands  from  sin  ;  and  never  have  I  been 
tempted  yet  from  within  my  own  nature  to  enjoy  a  single 
moment  of  such  hideous  selfishness.  And  I  thank  my 
kind  Maker  that  something  to  love  and  believe  in,  though 
unhappy  as  myself,  has  come  down  the  sad  pathway  I 
looked  along  so  many  years,  and  found  me  waiting  for 
him." 

Without  reply,  the  Captain  kept  his  own  thoughts  for 
several  minutes,  and  finally  sighed  : 

"I  know  one  thing  in  which  I  might  believe,  pretty 
child." 

"  Oh,  then  embrace  it,"  Hulda  said,  "  and  give  your 
faith  a  single  straw  to  cling  to." 

Van  Dorn's  hand  slipped  around  her  waist,  and  his 
florid  cheeks  and  blue  eyes  bent  beneath  her  Leghorn 
hat: 

"  I  find  it  here,  perhaps,  Hulda.  Shall  I  embrace 
your  youth  with  my  strong  passion  ?  I  fear  I  love  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  looking  up  with  her  long-lashed 
eyes  of  such  entrancing  gray;  "  kiss  me  if  it  will  give  you 
hope !" 

The  blush  and  high  color  went  out  of  his  face  as  he 
stared  into  those  passive,  large  gray  orbs,  wide  open  be 
neath  his  pouting,  rich,  effeminate  lips,  and,  as  he  hesi 
tated,  Hulda  repeated : 

"  Kiss  me,  if  it  will  make  you  hope  !" 

"  No,  no,"  he  answered;  "  of  all  places  I  am  most  hope 
less  there." 

"  I  knew  you  would  not  kiss  me,"  Hulda  said,  with  a 
tone  above  him,  "  if  I  gave  you  the  right  for  any  pure  ob 
ject.  The  kiss  you  would  give  me  does  not  see  its  mate 
in  my  soul." 

"  You  hate  me,  then  ?"  said  Van  Dorn. 

"  No,  I  pity  you  ;  I  pray  for  you,  too." 


342  THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  For  me  ?     What  interest  have  you  in  me  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Hulda.  "  I  have  often  wondered 
what  made  me  think  of  you  so  often  and,  yet,  never  with 
admiration.  You  are  the  only  person  here  who  appears 
to  have  lost  something  by  being  here ;  some  portion  of 
you  seems  to  have  disappeared ;  I  have  felt  that  you 
might  have  been  a  gentleman,  though  you  can  never  be 
again.  I  shrink  from  you,  and  still  I  pity  you.  But,  with 
all  your  handsome  ways,  I  would  never  love  you,  while 
the  poor  boy  who  is  riding  with  us  I  loved  as  soon  as  he 
came." 

"C/it's  !  chito  !  You  can  shrink  from  me  and  not  from 
a  Cannon,  too?  Why,  girl,  you  have  put  him  in  my 
power." 

"  I  have  been  in  your  power  for  a  long  time,  Captain 
Van  Dorn,  and  you  have  looked  at  me  with  bold  and  evil 
eyes  many  a  time,  but  never  came  nearer.  When  I  gaze 
at  you  as  I  did  just  now,  you  fly  from  me.  That  boy  I 
love  is  as  safe  as  I  am,  in  your  hands." 

"Why,  dear  presumer?     Tell  me." 

"  Because  I  love  him,  and  you  require  my  pity.  As 
long  as  you  protect  that  poor  orphan  boy  I  shall  carry 
your  name  to  God  for  pardon  ;  if  you  ever  do  him  harm, 
my  prayers  for  you  will  be  dumb  forever." 

"  Oh  !  ayme !  ayme  /"  softly  laughed  Van  Dorn,  his 
blush  not  coming  now  ;  "  you  forget,  Hulda,  that  I  believe 
in  nothing." 

They  had  hardly  gone  four  miles  when  a  little,  low- 
pitched  town  of  small  square  houses,  strewn  about  like 
toy-blocks  between  pairs  of  red  outside  chimneys,  sat,  in 
the  soft,  humid  October  morning,  along  the  rim  of  a 
marshy  creek  that,  skirting  the  hamlet,  flowed  into  the 
Nanticoke  River  a  few  miles,  by  its  course,  above  Twi- 
ford's  wharf.  Two  streets,  formed  by  two  roads,  ended  in 
a  third  street  along  the  sandy,  flattish  river  shore,  and 
there  stood  four  or  five  larger  dwellings,  like  their  hum- 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  343 

bier  neighbors,  built  of  wood,  but  with  bolder,  greater  chim 
neys,  rising  into  the  air  as  if  in  rivalry  of  four  large  ships 
and  brigs  that  lay  at  anchor  or  beside  the  two  wharves, 
and  threw  their  masts  and  spars  into  the  sailing  clouds, 
making  the  low  forest  that  closed  river  and  village  in, 
stoop  to  its  humility.  But  the  beautiful  river,  with  fre 
quent  bluffs  of  sand  and  woods,  flowing  two  hundred 
yards  wide  in  stately  tide,  and  bearing  up  to  Cannon's 
Ferry  fish-boats  and  pungies,  Yankee  schooners  and  wood- 
scows,  and  the  signs  of  life,  however  lowly,  that  floated 
in  blue  smoke  from  many  hearths,  or  sounded  in  oars, 
rigging,  and  lading,  seemed  to  Hulda  human  joy  and 
power,  and  she  cried  to  Levin  : 

"  Levin,  oh,  look  !  Did  you  ever  see  as  big  a  place  as 
this  ?  Yonder  is  the  road  to  Seaford,  just  as  far  as  we 
have  come  !  The  big  ships  are  taking  corn  for  West  In 
dies,  and  bringing  sugar  and  molasses.  That  is  the  ferry 
scow,  and  on  the  other  side  it  is  only  five  miles  to  Lau 
rel." 

"  Do  you  like  to  travel  that  road  ?"  asked  the  Captain, 
with  his  pleasing  lisp  and  blush  returned  again. 

"  It  makes  me  sad,"  replied  Hulda;  "  but  I  do  not  mut 
ter  when  I  go  past  the  spot,  like  grandma." 

",What  spot  ?"  asked  Levin. 

"  Where  father  killed  the  traveller,"  Hulda  said.  "  He 
died  shamefully  for  it.  You  could  almost  see  the  place 
but  for  yonder  woods,  where  the  road  to  Laurel  climbs  the 
sandy  hill." 

"  What's  this  ?"  said  Van  Dorn,  seeing  a  little  crowd 
around  one  of  the  single-story  cabins,  and  turning  his 
team  into  the  parallel  street. 

A  very  tall,  grand-looking  man  towered  above  the  rest, 
and  seemed  unable  to  stand  upright  in  the  low  cottage, 
with  his  proportions,  so  that  he  took  his  place  on  the 
grassy  sand  without  and  gave  his  directions  to  some  one 
within : 


344  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Levy  on  the  spinning-wheel !  Simplify  the  equation  ! 
Stand  by  your  fi.  fa.  !  Don't  be  chicken-hearted,  consta 
ble — she's  had  the  equivalent ;  now  she  sees  the  quotient, 
too." 

Van  Dorn  looked  on  and  saw  a  spinning-wheel  come 
out  of  the  door,  and  a  little  wool  in  a  bag  after  it.  Jacob 
Cannon  put  his  foot  on  the  wheel  and  poked  his  head  in 
the  door. 

"  I  see  an  axe  and  a  coffee-mill  there,  constable :  levy 
onto  'em  with  your  distringas.  Experientia  docet  stultos  ! 
Pass  out  that  pair  of  shoes  !" 

A  voice  of  a  woman  crying  was  heard,  and  Van  Dorn 
and  Levin  both  leaped  out  to  look. 

Hulda  also  stepped  down  and  disappeared. 

A  woman,  barely  able  to  stand  up,  and  white  as  illness 
and  anguish  could  make  her,  had  staggered  to  the  door 
to  beg  that  her  shoes  be  given  back,  and  pointed  to  her 
naked  feet. 

"  Now  she's  off  the  bed,  levy  on  that !"  cried  the  mili 
tary  figure  with  the  long,  eloquent  face  and  twinkling  eyes ; 
"  shove  it  out  the  window.  Mind  yQuxfi.fa.  and  I'll  take 
care  of  the  quotient." 

"Have  mercy  !"  cried  the  woman  ;  "  my  child  was  only 
born  last  week." 

"  Fling  out  that  good  chair  there,  constable.  Levy  on 
the  green  chest !  Don't  you  see  a  whole  quilt  or  blanket 
anywhere  !  Allow  neither  tret  nor  suttle  when  you  serve 
a  writ  for  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon !" 

"  Where  shall  I  lie  with  my  babe  ?"  cried  the  poor 
woman,  looking  around  on  the  naked  cabin,  where  nei 
ther  bed,  nor  blanket,  nor  chair,  nor  chest,  nor  spinning- 
wheel  remained. 

"  Li-vari  facias  /  and  fi-eri  facias  !  If  there's  a  mistake 
a  replevin  lies,  but  no  mistakes  are  made  by  Isaac  and 
Jacob  Cannon.  Constable,  I  think  I  see  an  iron  pot  on 
that  crane  !" 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  345 

"  It's  got  meat  in  it,  sir— meat  a-bilin',"  answered  the 
constable. 

"  Turn  out  the  meat !  Levy  on  the  pot !  Make  the 
quotient  accurate  !  Eliminate  the  pot  from  the  equa 
tion  !" 

Out  came  the  pot,  as  the  material  boiling  in  it  put  out 
the  October  fire,  and  it  was  thrown  in  the  miscellaneous 
heap  at  Jacob  Cannon's  feet. 

"  Now  take  the  cradle,  hard-hearted  man,"  the  woman 
cried,  "  and  turn  the  baby  into  the  fire,  too,  since  I  can 
cook  nothing  to  make  its  milk  in  my  breasts." 

"  Is  the  cradle  worth  anything,  constable  ?"  asked  the 
magnificent  -  looking  man  with  the  gray  silvery  lights 
around  his  horsy  nose;  "if  it's  worth  taking,  I  want  it. 
People  who  can't  pay  their  debts  must  live  single  like 
Jacob  Cannon,  and  not  be  distrained." 

A  boy,  with  his  face  scratched,  and  dissipation  settled 
in  it,  bounded  suddenly  into  the  aghast  group  of  specta 
tors,  and  made  a  vicious  dive  to  recover  the  effects  around 
Jacob  Cannon's  feet,  but  that  mighty  worthy  took  him  by 
the  collar  and,  holding  him  up,  dropped  him  over  a  fence 
like  a  bug : 

"  Owen  Daw,  here  be  witnesses  to  an  assault  insultus, 
actionable  as  a  trespass  vi,  the  quotient  whereof  is  dam 
ages  or  the  equivalent  in  Georgetown  jail.  Take  heed, 
good  citizens,  and  especially  I  note  you,  Captain  Van 
Dorn." 

"  I'll  kill  him,"  shouted  the  young  bully  of  Johnson's 
Cross-roads,  and  late  distrainer  on  the  profile  of  Cyrus 
James,  Esquire,  seizing  an  ugly  stick. 

"Justifiable  as  son  assault  demesne"  remarked  the  cred 
itor,  carelessly,  as  he  wrenched  the  bobbin  from  the  spin 
ning-wheel  and  knocked  the  boy  down  with  it. 

His  commanding  manner  and  the  ready  hand  operated 
to  abash  the  latter,  and,  deeply  pained  with  the  scene, 
Levin  Dennis  fervently  and  impulsively  cried  to  Van  Dorn  : 


THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

" Oh,  Captain  !  can't  you  pay  her  debts!  I'll  give  all 
Joe's  going  to  give  me,  to  pay  you  back.  See  how  she 
lays  on  the  bare  floor !  Hear  her  child  crying  for  her  ! 
Oh  !  I  think  I  hear  my  mother's  voice  a-callin'  of  me  home 
as  I  listen  to  it." 

Van  Dorn,  feeling  Levin's  hands  grasp  his  own  with 
simple  confidence,  heard  and  did  not  turn  his  head,  while 
blushes  like  roses  bloomed  successively  upon  his  fresh, 
effeminate  cheeks.  He  did  not  repel  the  boy's  hands, 
however,  but  looked  at  the  scene  with  worldly  and  un- 
pitying  curiosity. 

"  To  pay  the  distraints  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon," 
he  murmured,  softly,  "  would  keep  a  poor  slaver  poor. 
You  must  grow  accustomed  to  such  cries  :  I  had  to  do 
so.  Learn  to  love  money  like  that  merchant  and  me,  and 
you  will  think  them  music." 

"  Oh,  when  we  cry  to  God  for  mercy,  captain,  maybe 
our  cries  will  sound  like  that !  I  can't  bear  to  hear  it." 

"You  told  mother,  Jake  Cannon,  when  she  rented  this 
ole  house,"  the  boy,  Owen  Daw,  exclaimed,  "  that  she 
needn't  pay  the  rent,  if  she  didn't  want  to,  till  the  day  of 
judgment." 

"I've  got  the  judgment,"  Jacob  Cannon  answered,  his 
whitish  eyes  seeming  to  chuckle  to  the  bridge  of  his  nose, 
"and  this  is  the  clay  it's  due.  All  legal  days  are  'judg 
ment  days'  to  Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon." 

"  My  son,  my  son,"  the  woman's  voice  wailed  out  to 
Owen  Daw,  "  I  see  the  end  of  your  going  to  Patty  Can 
non's  :  my  baby  to  the  grave,  myself  to  the  almshouse, 
and  you  to  the  gallows." 

"Captain,  Captain, "Levin  cried,  "oh,  pay  the  debt  for 
me  !  Mother's  never  been  poor  as  this.  Pay  it,  and  I 
will  work  fur  you  anywhair,  dear  captain." 

"  How  much  is  the  debt,"  asked  Van  Dorn,  lispingly. 

"  Ten  dollars,"  spoke  the  constable,  also  moved  to 
shame. 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  347 

"  Cannon,  will  you  take  me  for  it  ?" 

"  I'll  take  your  judgment-bond  or  the  cash,  Captain 
Van  Dorn,  nothing  less." 

"  Put  back  her  stuff,"  the  captain  said,  slightly  press 
ing  Levin's  hand,  as  if  to  say,  "  This  is  for  you  " — "  put 
back  her  stuff  and  I'll  settle  it  with  Isaac  Cannon." 

"God  bless  you!"  cried  the  woman,  taking  her  babe 
from  the  cradle  and  hushing  its  hunger  at  her  breast ; 
"  they  call  you  a  wicked  man,  but  blessings  on  you  for  all 
the  good  you  do  !" 

"Chito!  chitor  smiled  Van  Dorn.  "I  did  it  for  this 
foolish  boy  ;  I  pity  none." 

Hulda  had  resorted  to  the  strand,  or  river  street  of 
Cannon's  Ferry,  where  there  were  two  storehouses,  and 
she  had  borrowed  quill  and  ink,  and  written  a  letter  ad 
dressed  to  "  Mrs.  Ellenora  Dennis,  Princess  Anne,  Somer 
set  County,  Maryland,"  saying : 

"  Madam,  Levin,  your  son,  is  near  this  place  against  his 
will,  among  dangerous  men  and  in  great  temptation,  but  he 
has  found  a  friend.  In  one  week  this  friend  will  try  to 
write  again,  and,  if  not  heard  from,  seek  Levin  Dennis  at 
Johnson 's  Cross-roads. ' ' 

This  letter,  written  with  all  her  unproficient  speed,  had 
just  been  folded,  wafered,  and  endorsed,  and  she  had 
put  down  one  of  the  shillings  of  1815  to  pay  the  postage, 
when  a  shadow  fell  upon  the  store  counter,  and  the  letter 
was  withdrawn  from  her  hand ;  Van  Dorn  stood  by  her 
side. 

"Chis!  chito !  Es  posible?  A  spy,  perhaps.  Now 
you  will  love  Van  Dorn,  or  Grandma  Cannon  shall  hear 
your  letter  read  !" 

"Give  it  to  me,  Captain,"  Hulda  pleaded  ;  "she  will  kill 
me  if  she  reads  it." 

"  If  it  were  sent,  pomarosa,  we  all  might  die.  No,  you 
are  too  dangerous." 

He  looked,  without  his  blush,  at  the  shilling  she  was 


34^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

putting  back  in  her  bosom,  and  his  eye  was  cold  and 
fierce.  Hulda's  heart  sank  down. 

"  Brother  Isaac,"  cried  Jacob  Cannon,  to  a  man  of  fine, 
lean  height,  who  was  at  the  desk — a  man  a  little  shorter 
than  Jacob,  and  not  so  much  of  a  king  in  appearance, 
but  with  the  same  whitish  eyes  dancing  around  the  bridge 
of  his  nose,  and  a  more  covert  and  thoughtful  brow — 
"  Brother  Isaac,  Captain  Van  Dorn  is  chicken-hearted, 
and  wants  to  settle  the  debt  of  the  Widow  O'Day,  other 
wise  Daw." 

"  By  cash  or  judgment-note,  captain  ?" 

"  Cash,"  answered  Van  Dorn,  modestly  ;  "  take  it  out 
of  this  double-eagle,  with  Madam  Cannon's  rent  for  your 
farm." 

"  There's  a  tree — a  bee-tree,  Brother  Jacob,  I  think  you 
said — cut  down  from  Mrs.  Cannon's  field  ?" 

"  Yes,  actionable  under  statute  made  and  provided, 
wilfully  to  spoil  or  destroy  any  timber  or  other  trees, 
roots,  shrubs,  or  plants  ;  value  of  said  bee-tree  three  dol 
lars  ;  lev  art  facias !  The  quotient  is  unsatisfactory  to 
Isaac  and  Jacob  Cannon." 

The  eyes  of  the  elder  and  smaller  brother  endeav 
ored  to  have  an  introduction  to  each  other  through  the 
bridge  of  his  nose. 

"  Oh,  Brother  Jacob,"  he  chuckled,  "  what  an  executive 
help  you  air  !  Captain,  isn't  he  a  perfect  Marius  ?" 

"  Madam  Cannon,"  observed  the  captain,  "  throws  up 
the  farm  with  this  payment,  gentlemen.  She  has  already 
moved  her  effects  across  the  line  to  son-in-law  Johnson's. 
The  bee-tree  I  know  nothing  about." 

"  Brother  Jacob,"  spoke  Isaac  Cannon,  "  Moore  takes 
the  farm  !  Let  him  be  notified  that  his  rent  commences 
without  day." 

"  Execution  made,  Brother  Isaac,"  answered  the  Ma 
rius  of  the  family.  "  This  morning,  perceiving  Patty 
Cannon  about  to  move  her  effects,  my  bailiff  seized  on 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  349 

her  plough  as  security  for  the  aforesaid  bee-tree  spoiled, 
maimed,  and  destroyed,  and  Moore  is  ploughing  to  put 
in  his  wheat  with  it  already.  Time  is  money  to  Isaac  and 
Jacob  Cannon." 

"  Ha,  ha  !  what  an  executive  comfort !  Brother  Jacob 
never  adds  an  item  to  profit  and  loss." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Van  Dorn,  "  I  recommend  you  not 
to  be  charging  bee-trees  to  tenants  in  the  vicinity  of 
Johnson's  Cross-roads.  It's  an  unusual  item,  and  we  are 
raising  young  men  there  who  may  not  understand  it." 

"Captain,"  said  the  elder  Cannon,  chuckling  as  if  still 
in  admiration  of  Marius's  subtlety,  "  I  recollect  now  that 
our  ferryman  brought  over  a  man  from  Laurel  this  morn 
ing  with  some  news.  A  woman  with  a  broken  shackle 
reported  there  last  night,  and  said  she  was  the  slave  of 
Daniel  Custis  of  Princess  Anne  :  she  came  from  Broad 
Creek." 

"  Where  did  she  go  ?" 

"  A  Methodist  preacher  put  her  in  his  buggy  and  start 
ed  to  her  master's  with  her." 

"Then  she'll  beat  the  wind,"  said  Van  Dorn  ;  "these 
preachers  are  all  horse -jockeys,  and  can  outswap  the 
devil.  Hola!  ya,  ya  !  I  must  see  to  this." 

He  strode  out,  with  a  cold  eye  glanced  at  Hulda. 

"  Come,  young  people,"  spoke  the  grand  head  of  Jacob 
Cannon  to  Levin  and  Hulda ;  "  I  will  show  you  my  mu 
seum." 

He  led  the  way  to  a  warehouse  overhanging  the  river 
and  unlocked  a  door,  and  told  them  to  walk  carefully 
till  they  could  see  in  the  dark  of  the  interior. 

Levin  kept  Hulda's  hand  in  his  as  they  slowly  saw 
emerge  from  the  shadows  a  great  variety  of  dissimilar 
things  heaped  together,  till  the  house  could  hardly  hold 
the  vast  aggregate  of  pots  and  kettles,  spinning-wheels 
and  cradles,  bedsteads  and  beds,  harrows  and  ploughs, 
chairs  and  gridirons,  rakes  and  hoes,  silhouettes  and  pict- 


35°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ure-frames,  hand-made  quilts  of  calico  and  pillows  of 
home-plucked  geese  feathers,  fishermen's  nets  and  oars — 
whatever  made  the  substance  of  living  in  an  old  country 
without  minerals  and  manufactures,  in  the  early  part  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 

"  Whare  did  you  git  'em,  sir?"  Levin  asked. 

"  Executed  of  'em,"  said  the  warrior  head  and  stature 
of  Jacob  Cannon  ;  "pounced  on  'em  ;  satisfied  judgments 
upon  'em.  Fi.fa.  /  We  call  this  Peale's  Museum  Num 
ber  Two,  or  the  Variegated  Quotient." 

"  All  these  things  taken  from  the  poor  ?"  asked  Hulda. 
"  How  many  miseries  they  tell !" 

"  Mr.  Cannon,"  said  Levin,  "  what  kin  you  do  with 
'em  ?  People  won't  buy  'em.  They're  just  a-rottin'  to 
pieces." 

"  We  keep  'em  to  show  all  them  who  trespass  on  Isaac 
and  Jacob  Cannon,"  answered  Marius,  with  easy  gran 
deur,  "  that  there  is  a  judgment-day!" 

Hulda's  long-lashed  gray  eyes,  with  a  look  of  more 
than  childish  contempt,  accompanied  her  words  : 

"  I  should  think  you  would  fear  that  day,  Mr.  Cannon, 
when  you  say  the  prayer, '  Forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we 
forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us.'  " 

The  wind  from  the  river  seemed  to  bend  the  old  ware 
house,  and  the  noise  it  made  through  the  chinks  and 
around  the  corners,  slightly  stirring  the  loosely  disposed 
pile  of  cottage  and  hut  comforts,  seemed  to  arouse  low 
wails  among  these  as  when  they  were  torn  from  the  chim 
ney  side  and  the  family. 

"Where  is  my  baby?"  the  cradle  seemed  to  say,  "that 
I  received  and  rocked  warm  from  the  womb  of  pain? 
Oh,  I  am  hungry  for  his  little  smile  !" 

"  Why  do  I  rest  my  busy  wheel  ?"  the  spinner  seemed 
to  creak,  "  when  I  know  my  children  are  without  stock 
ings  ?  Who  keeps  me  here  idle  while  Mother  asks  for 
me  ?" 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  351 

"  Where  is  the  old  gray  head,"  sighed  the  feathers,  sift 
ing  in  the  breeze  from  a  broken  pillow-case,  "  that  every 
night  and  in  the  afternoons  dozed  on  our  bag  of  down, 
and  picked  us  over  once  a  year,  and  said  her  prayers  in 
us  ?  Oh,  is  she  sleeping  on  the  cold,  bare  floor,  and  we 
so  useless !" 

The  pot  seethed  to  the  kettle,  "  It  is  dinner-time,  and 
the  little  boys  are  crying  for  food,  and  still  there  is  no  one 
to  lift  me  on  the  crane  and  start  the  fire  beneath  me ! 
What  will  they  think  of  me,  they  gathered  around  so  many 
years  and  watched  me  boil,  and  poked  their  little  fingers 
in  to  taste  the  stewing  meat?  I  want  to  go !  I  want  to 
go!" 

The  kettle  answered  to  the  pot :  "  I  never  sung  since 
the  constable  forced  me  from  grandmother's  hand,  and 
robbed  her  of  the  cup  of  tea." 

The  old  quilt  of  many  squares  fluttered  in  the  draught : 
"  Take  me  to  the  young  wife  who  sewed  me  together  and 
showed  me  so  proudly,  for  I  fear  she  is  a-cold  since  her 
young  husband  died !" 

These  household  sounds  the  thrilled  young  lovers, 
standing  so  poor  and  on  the  brink  of  what  they  knew  not, 
seemed  to  hear  in  awe,  and  drew  closer  to  each  other, 
like  young  Eve  and  Adam  in  the  great  wreck  of  Paradise 
and  at  the  voice  of  God. 

Hand  in  hand  they  stepped  forth  into  the  bright  light 
of  day,  and  walked  along  the  sandy  street  beneath  the 
tall  locust,  maple,  and  ailanthus  trees  that  grew  in  line 
along  the  front  yards  of  the  Cannon  brothers.  Four 
large  houses  stood  sidewise,  end  to  end,  here  :  first,  Can 
non's  business  house  ;  next,  Isaac  Cannon's  comfortable 
home,  where  he  dwelt,  a  married  man ;  and,  third,  the 
elegant  frame  mansion,  with  tall,  airy  chimneys,  of  Jacob 
Cannon  the  bachelor,  whose  house,  built  for  a  bride, 
had  never  yet  been  warmed  by  a  fire ;  finally,  the  old, 
bow-roofed,  low  dwelling  of  the  mother  of  the  Cannons, 


352  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

opposite  which  was  the  ferry  wharf,  and  Van  Dorn  talking 
to  the  negro  ferryman. 

"Levin,"  said  pretty  Hulda,  not  sad,  but  very  grave, 
"  this  noble  house  is  like  that  noble-looking  Mr.  Cannon, 
hollow  and  cold.  He  lives  with  his  brother  Isaac,  and 
keeps  his  own  dwelling  empty  and  locked  up,  because  he 
loved  money  too  much  to  find  a  wife." 

"  Let  us  love  each  other,  Huldy,"  Levin  said  j  "  it  is 
all  we've  got." 

"  It  is  all  there  is  to  get,  my  love,"  Hulda  answered. 
"  Yes,  I  do  love  you,  Levin.  I  will  try  to  save  you,  if  I 
can,  because  I  love  you,  though  suffering  may  come  to 
me." 

"  No,"  cried  Levin,  "  I  cannot  leave  you,  dear.  If  I 
could  now  cross  in  the  ferry-boat,  I  wouldn't  do  it ;  I 
must  go  back  with  you." 

As  Captain  Van  Dorn  came  up  from  the  wharf,  blush 
ing  like  a  school-boy,  and  tapping  his  white  teeth  togeth 
er  under  the  long  flax  of  his  mustache,  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  proclamation  pasted  on  a  post : 

"Five  Hundred  Dollars  Reward,  for 
JOSEPH  MOORE  JOHNSON,  KIDNAPPER. 
"  The  above  reward  will  be  paid  by  me  to  any  person  or 
persons — and  they  will  be  exempted  from  detention — who 
will  deliver  to  me  the  body  of  the  above-named  miscreant,  that 
he  may  be  brought  to  trial  in  Pennsylvania. 

"JOSEPH  WATSON,  Mayor  of  Philadelphia" 

"C/iisf  he!"  Van  Dorn  sighed;  "the  end  must  soon 
be  near.  Now,  young  people,  come  !" 

As  they  passed  Cannon's  place,  going  out  of  town,  the 
familiar  voice  of  Jacob  was  heard  to  cry : 

"  Owen  Daw's  escaped,  Brother  Isaac ;  but  we'll  clap 
it  to  him  on  a  de  bonis  non.  I'll  never  take  my  eye  off 
him  till  I  die." 


CANNON  S    FERRY.  353 

"  Brother  Jacob,  what  an  executive  help  you  air !" 

As  Van  Dorn  drove  the  horses  up  the  slight  ascent  in 
the  rear  of  the  ferry,  past  an  ancient  double  puncheon 
house  there,  with  an  arch  in  the  centre,  young  Hulda — 
who  now  wore  shoes  and  stockings,  and  a  presentable 
dress  of  English  goods,  and  looked  quite  the  woman  out, 
of  her  sincere  and  sometimes  proud  and  eloquent  eyes — 
said  to  him,  as  she  pointed  back  : 

"  Captain,  it  was  there  my  father  killed  the  traveller, 
where  we  see  the  road  beyond  the  ferry  enter  the 
pines." 

"Yes,"  said  Van  Dorn,  giving  her  a  cold  look;  "we 
might  see  the  place  but  for  the  woods.  It  is  at  a  hill,  a 
short  mile  from  the  Nanticoke." 

"  Tell  Levin  about  it,  captain." 

"Quedo,  quedo  !    It  would  not  be  pleasant." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hulda ;  "  if  it  was  true,  I  can  hear  it :  I 
want  Levin  to  hear  it,  too,  so  that  no  deceit  shall  be  be 
tween  us." 

Her  smooth,  moist  hair,  gray,  humid  eyes,  complexion 
born  between  the  rose  and  dew,  and  straight,  lithe  figure, 
and  air  of  dignity  and  truth,  impressed  Van  Dorn  curi 
ously  : 

"  How  bold  you  grow,  wild-flower  !  Cannot  you  sloop 
to  re-create  me  ?  I,  too,  would  live  without  deceit.  But 
I  will  not  tell  you  that  story." 

"You  are  afraid,"  spoke  Hulcln,  feeling  that  nothing 
but  this  man  and  three  miles  of  level  road  separated  her 
from  the  vengeance  of  Patty  Cannon,  and  that  she  must 
assert  herself  strongly  over  him. 

"  Yat  ya  !  Are  you  not  harsh  ?  Remember,  you  may 
be  whipped  by  your  grandma." 

"  No,  you  will  whip  me,  or  kill  me,  if  it  is  to  be  done. 
You  dare  not  give  me  to  her  to  punish." 

"  Dare  not,  again  ?     Why  ?" 

"  Because  you  are  my  guardian.     Between  us  is  an  in- 
23 


354  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

stinct  different  from  love,  but  strong ;  I  feel  it.  I  lean 
towards  you,  but  not  on  you.  What  is  it?" 

"  O  Dios  f"  lisped  Van  Dorn,  his  blush  suspended  and 
his  warm  blue  eyes  fascinated  by  her.  "  Is  this  a  child 
or  Echo  ?" 

"Tell  me  of  my  father's  crime.  I  want  Levin  to  know 
the  wretched  thing  he  has  affection  for." 

"  Ayme !  ah!  Well,  listen, young  lovers,  and  see  what 
grisly  things  walk  in  these  pines  !  There  was  a  man 
named  Brereton ;  they  call  him  Bruington  here,  where 
their  noses  are  twisted  and  their  chins  weak.  He  came 
from  old  Lewes,  off  to  the  east  by  Cape  Henlopen,  and 
of  a  stout  family,  in  which  was  a  grain  of  evil  ever  smok 
ing  through  the  blood.  Do  you  sometimes  feel  it,  Hul- 
da  ?" 

"  No,  not  evil  like  that." 

"  He  was  apprenticed  to  a  blacksmith,  and  held  the 
iron  while  the  master  struck.  One  day  a  man  came  in 
the  shop,  whose  horse  had  thrown  a  shoe,  to  have  a  shoe 
ing,  and,  when  he  paid  for  it,  he  took  a  handful  of  money 
from  his  pocket,  and  one  piece — a  dollar — fell  in  the  soft 
soot  of  the  shop,  unperceived  but  by  the  boy:  chis !  he 
covered  it  with  his  foot." 

Van  Dorn's  whip-lash  firmly  covered  a  huge  fly  on  the 
horse's  ear,  and  laid  it  dead. 

"  When  the  man  departed,  the  boy  raised  his  foot  and 
uncovered  the  dollar;  his  master  said,  'Smart  boy!' 
They  divided  the  stolen  dollar." 

"Jimmy  Phcebus  says  the  fust  step  is  half  of  a  jour 
ney,"  Levin  noted. 

"  The  blacksmith's  boy  looked  avariciously  on  travel 
lers  ever  after,  who  might  possess  a  dollar.  He  took  the 
empty  shop  of  Patty  Cannon's  first  husband,  years  after 
that  saint  died,  and  worked  on  hobbles,  clevises,  and 
chains  to  hold  the  kidnapped  articles  of  commerce.  Nat 
urally  he  kidnapped,  too,  and,  while  she  was  yet  a  child, 


CANNON'S  FERRY.  355 

Patty's  daughter  became  Brereton's  wife,  bestowed  by  the 
fond,  appreciative  mother.  Master  Levin,  if  you  fall  into 
his  path,  Brereton's  daughter  may  be  bestowed  on  you. 
Hola!  behold  her  in  Hulda." 

"  I  can't  see  any  of  that  sin  in  Hulda,  Captain  •  she 
ain't  even  ashamed." 

"  No,"  affirmed  Hulda,  looking  sincerely  at  Van  Dorn  ; 
**  it  is  too  true  to  make  me  ashamed.  I  feel  as  if  God's 
hand  covered  me  like  the  silver  dollar  under  my  father's 
foot,  because  he  let  me  survive  such  parents." 

As  she  spoke  she  took  one  of  the  silver  shillings  of  1815 
and  covered  it  with  her  hand  in  Van  Dorn's  sight.  Van 
Dorn  spoke  on  rapidly  : 

"There  were  two  brothers  named  Griffin  from  about 
Cambridge,  in  Maryland  ;  spoiled  boys  who  had  taken  to 
the  flesh  trade,  and  they  stole  men  and  gambled  the  pro 
ceeds  away,  and  Brereton  was  their  leader.  One  day  a 
traveller  came  by  from  Carolina,  hunting  contraband 
slaves,  and  he  was  of  your  boastful  sort,  and  dropped  the 
hint  that  he  had  fifteen  thousand  dollars  on  his  body  to 
be  invested.  No  later  had  he  spoken  than  he  felt  his 
folly,  from  the  burning  eyes  around  him  and  watering 
mouths  telling  him  to  sleep  there  and  slaves  would  be 
fetched  ;  so  he  started  in  a  fright  for  Laurel,  by  way  of 
Cannon's  Ferry,  intending  to  deposit  his  money  or  make 
them  deal  with  him  there.  The  word  was  passed  to  Bre 
reton  by  his  wife  or  mother-in-law,  and  by  Brereton  to  the 
Griffins,  to  mount  and  intercept  the  gold.  Some  say," 
lisped  Van  Dorn,  "that  Mistress  Cannon,  dressed  in 
man's  clothes,  commanded  the  band." 

A  deep,  chuckling  interest,  like  the  sound  of  a  hidden 
brook,  attended  Van  Dorn's  recital,  and  he  was  blushing 
like  a  girl. 

"  At  Slabtown,  a  nondescript  spot  a  mile  above  Can 
non's,  the  light-marching  band  crossed  in  a  row-boat ; 
they  piled  brush  and  bent  clown  saplings  in  the  travel- 


THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ler's  road,  where  he  should  almost  reach  the  brow  of  the 
hill  in  his  buggy,  and  when  the  fleshmonger  halted  at  the 
obstacle,  chis,  kola  !  they  let  him  have  it  on  both  sides, 
and  sent  icicles  to  his  heart.  He  drew  a  pistol,  but  in  a 
dying  hand.  '  Away  !'  cried  the  assassins  ;  '  he  is  not 
dead.'  His  horse,  in  fright  at  bursting  fire-arms  in  the 
evening  shades,  leaped  the  brushy  barriers  and  galloped 
to  Laurel,  and  delivered  there  an  ashy-visaged  effigy, 
down  whose  beard  the  red  dye  of  his  life  dripped  audi 
bly,  as  he  sat  stiff  in  death  in  the  buggy.  His  name  was 
only  guessed  ;  how  happy  he  in  that !" 

"  And  what  was  the  fate  of  the  murderers  ?"  Hulda 
asked,  with  less  horror  than  Levin  showed. 

"  Three  of  them  were  arrested ;  one  of  the  Griffins  ex 
posed  his  brother  and  Captain  Brereton  ;  these  two  died 
on  the  gallows  at  Georgetown,  young  Brereton  exerting 
himself  under  the  noose  to  prevent  his  injudicious  com 
rade  saying  too  much  on  peerless  Patty  Cannon  and  her 
fair  sisters,  and  thinking  on  their  interests  more  than  on 
this  living  child.  Ha  !  Hulda  Brereton  ?" 

"  The  other  Griffin  also  suffered  death  ?"  suggested 
Hulda,  with  a  pale,  unevasive  countenance. 

"Yes,  your  fond  grandma,  then  in  her  blazing  charms, 
drew  him  to  her  band  again  with  the  lure  of  Widow 
Brereton's  hand ;  he  killed  a  constable  to  recommend 
himself  the  better,  and  died  on  the  gallows  at  his  native 
Cambridge.  Hala  hala  /  she  gave  your  mother,  wild- 
flower  Hulda,  to  Joe  Johnson  next  to  wife." 

"It  is  an  awful  story,"  Levin  said,  "but  Hulda  never 
saw  it." 

"I  can  remember  my  father,"  said  Hulda;  "a  large, 
strong  man,  with  a  slow,  heavy  face,  but  he  never  smiled 
on  me." 

"  Well,  here  is  the  cross-roads,"  said  Van  Dorn.  "What 
shall  I  do  with  this  letter,  bad  wild-flower  ?" 

"  Read  it,  if  you  will,  or  take  this  English  shilling  and 
post  it." 


PACIFICATION.  357 

Van  Dorn  shrank  back,  rejecting  the  money. 

"Will  you  not  buy  it  back,  Hulda,"  he  whispered, 
"with  love?" 

"Never." 

"  You  may  pay  for  this  letter  this  night  with  your  life 
or  modesty !" 

"  You  dare  not  kill  me,"  Hulda  said. 

"You  will  see,"  said  Van  Dorn. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PACIFICATION. 

PRINCESS  ANNE  had  missed  for  several  days  some  con 
spicuous  citizens,  such  as  Daniel  Custis  and  wife,  Captain 
Phoebus,  Levin  Dennis,  and  the  free  negro  Samson — large 
components  of  a  small  town  ;  but  it  had  also  gained  what 
everybody  admitted  to  be  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  place  except  Mrs.  Vesta  Milburn — the  brown-eyed, 
tall,  roguish  niece  of  Meshach  Milburn,  whom  Vesta  had 
made  a  lady  of  in  externals,  corrected  some  of  her  faults, 
such  as  the  sniffle,  and  was  daily  teaching  her  the  mys 
teries  of  grammar  and  address,  aided  by  the  rector  of  the 
parish,  whose  heart  was  roused  to  partial  animation  again 
by  the  young  visitor. 

Loyally  William  Tilghman  had  pressed  his  friendship 
on  Vesta's  semi-social  husband,  determined  to  like  him, 
and  finding  small  resistance  there,  and,  happily,  no  suspi 
cion  ;  and  this  was  so  grateful  to  Vesta  that  she  indulged 
the  hope  that  her  cousin  and  late  lover  would  find  com 
pensation  for  her  loss  in  Rhoda  Holland. 

Love  came  easily  on  as  a  topic  of  talk  where  Rhoda, 
with  her  unconventional  preference  for  that  subject,  intro 
duced  it. 

"  Mr.  William  " — she  had  got  that  far  towards  the  in- 


358  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

evitable  "  William  " — said  Rhoda,  one  evening  at  Teackle 
Hall,  as  they  sat  in  the  library,  "do  preachers  love  jus' 
like  other  folks  ?  Misc  Somers  say  they  is  drea'fle  sly 
boots.  She  say  thar  was  a  preacher  down  yer  to  Girdle 
Tree  Hill  that  preached  the  Meal-an-the-Yum  was  a-goin' 
to  happen  right  off." 

"  Millennium,"  suggested  Tilghman. 

"  Maybe  so.  Misc  Somers  call  it  '  the  Meal-an-the- 
Yum/  I  thought.  Anyway,  they  was  all  goin'  to  rise, 
right  off,  an'  he  with  'em.  Lord  sakes  !  they  had  frills 
put  on  thar  night-gowns  to  rise  in.  An'  the  night  before 
they  was  a-goin'  up,  that  ar  scamp  run  away  with  a  wid- 
der  an'  her  darter,  jilted  the  widder  an'  married  the  dar 
ter  ;  an'  they  couldn't  rise  at  Girdle  Tree  Hill  caze  the 
preacher  wa'n't  thar,  an'  they  didn't  know  when." 

"And  I  suppose  Mrs.  Somers  tells  it  on  him?"  William 
Tilghman  added. 

"That  she  do.  Now,  was  you  ever  in  love,  Mr.  Will 
iam?" 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  Rhoda,  that  when  you  are  a 
good  scholar,  and  grandmother  and  you  grow  to  like  each 
other,  as  I  believe  you  will,  I  might  fall  in  love  with  you." 

"Lord  sakes!  Me  loved  by  a  preacher?  Couldn't  1 
never  stay  home  from  the  preachin'  ?  But  then,  to  hear 
your  own  ole  man  a-barkin'  away  at  the  other  gals,  I 
think  it  would  be  right  good  !" 

The  subject  had  now  gone  to  that  length  that  in  a  few 
days,  to  Grandmother  Tilghman's  slight  indignation,  Rho 
da  called  the  rector  "  AVilliam,"  and  he  answered  her, 
"  Dear  Rhoda." 

The  triple  widow,  however,  had  one  lane  to  her  consid 
eration,  up  which  the  artful  Rhoda  strayed  as  soon  as  she 
saw  the  gate  ajar. 

"  Misc  Tilghman,"  she  said  one  day,  "  I  been  a-look- 
in'  at  you.  I  'spect  you  was  a  real  beauty.  If  you  wasn't 
a  little  quar,  nobody  would  see  you  was  a  ole  woman  now." 


PACIFICATION.  359 

"  I  was  a  belle,"  spoke  the  blind  old  lady,  emphatical 
ly.  "  General  John  Eager  Howard  said  he  would  rather 
talk  with  me  than  hear  an  oration  from  Fisher  Ames. 
Charles  Carroll,  of  Carrollton,  proposed  to  me  when  I  was 
old  enough  to  be  your  grandmother,  and  after  Susan  De- 
catur,  the  commodore's  widow,  had  tried  in  vain  to  get  an 
offer  from  him.  Said  I, '  Carroll,  is  this  another  Declara 
tion  of  Independence  ?  No,'  said  I,  '  Carroll,  I  won't 
reduce  the  last  signer,  it  may  be,  to  obedience  on  a  wife 
going  blind.  That  would  be  worse  slavery  than  George 
the  Third's !'  He  said  I  was  a  Spartan  widow." 

"  Every  widow  I  ever  see  was  a  sparkin'  widow,"  Rhoda 
naively  concluded,  at  which  Mrs.  Tilghman  had  to  join  ID 
the  laughter,  and  there  was  no  evil  feeling. 

Jack  Wonnell  now  held  the  temporary  post  of  cook 
and  woodchopper  at  Teackle  Hall,  and  Roxy  saw  him 
every  day,  sewed  his  tattered  clothing  up,  put  the  germs 
of  self-respect  in  him,  and  caused  Vesta  to  say  to  her 
husband,  as  they  were  sitting  in  his  storehouse  parlor  one 
afternoon,  in  the  intermission  of  his  chill  and  sweat : 

"  Such  rapid  changes  have  taken  place  here,  Mr.  Mil- 
burn,  that  they  have  disturbed  my  judgment,  and  now  I 
hardly  know  whether  my  oldest  prejudice  is  assured,  as  I 
see  that  white  man  the  happy  domestic  servant  of  my 
pure  slave  girl.  She  seems  to  have  no  greater  affection 
than  pity  and  interest  for  him,  while  he  is  made  more  of 
a  man  by  his  undisguised  devotion  to  her.  No  man  could 
work  better  than  he  does  now." 

"  Love  is  so  great,  so  occult,"  the  husband  said,  his 
brown  eyes  searching  his  wife's  face  over,  "  that  its  com 
binations  have  centuries  left  to  run  before  they  shall 
beat  every  prejudice  down,  and  prove,  in  spite  of  sin  and 
dispersion,  that  of  one  blood  are  all  the  nations  made."* 

*  At  this  point  the  second  episode,  telling  the  descent  of  the  En 
tailed  Hat  from  Raleigh  to  Anne  Hutchinson,  is  omitted,  to  shorten 
the  book. 


360  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

BEGINNING   OF   THE   RAID. 

THE  raid  into  Delaware  was  all  organized  when  Levin 
and  Hulda  were  driven  to  Johnson's  tavern,  and  the  ar 
rival  of  Van  Dorn  called  forth  cheers  and  yells,  as  that 
blushing  worthy  threw  his  trim,  athletic  figure  out  of  the 
wagon  and  bowed  to  Joe  Johnson,  on  the  tavern  porch  : 

"  O  hala  hala  !  do  you  go,  son-in-law  ?" 

"  I'll  ride  with  ye,  Captain,  a  split  of  the  Maryland  way, 
but  sprat  for  that  Delaware !  I'll  go  in  it  no  more.  I'll 
stand  whack  with  you,  however,  fur  the  rnadges  I  give  you 
and  fur  my  stalling  ken." 

"  Qtiedito  /"  lisped  Van  Dorn  ;  "  we  never  leave  your 
interests  out,  son-in-law.  How  is  Aunt  Patty?" 

"  She's  made  a  punch  fur  the  population,  an'  calls  fur 
young  Levin  thar  to  lush  with  her." 

"  I'll  take  mine  along,"  Levin  cried,  "  an'  drink  it  in 
the  chill  o'  the  night." 

"  No,"  commanded  the  voice  of  Patty  Cannon;  "it's 
a-waitin'  fur  you,  son  :  a  good  stiff  bowl  of  apple  and 
sugar.  Him  as  misses  his  drinks  yer  we  sets  no  ac 
count  on." 

As  Van  Dorn  and  Levin  pushed  through  the  motley 
crowd  on  the  little  porch  into  the  bar,  where  Mrs.  Can 
non  administered,  she  set  before  them  two  fiery  bowls, 
and  cried : 

"Come  in  yer,  Colonel  McLane,  an' jine  my  nug  an' 
my  young  cousin  Levin." 

"  No,  Patty,"  answered  a  voice  from  the  next  room 
within  ;  "  I've  drunk  my  share.  There's  nothing  like  a 


BEGINNING    OF    THE    RAID.  361 

As  Patty  put  her  head  into  this  inner  room,  Levin  Den 
nis,  seeing  a  window  open  at  his  elbow,  threw  the  whole 
of  his  liquor  over  his  shoulder  into  the  yard  and  smacked 
his  lips  heartily,  saying, 

"Good!" 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  Van  Dorn,  evidently  noticing  Lev 
in's  deceit;  "smart  people  are  around  us,  Patty.  Be 
ware  !" 

He  took  from  his  pocket  the  fateful  letter  and  glanced 
at  its  endorsement,  and,  as  he  did  so,  Levin  heard  an  ex 
clamation  in  the  yard  from  a  man  who  had  received  the 
whole  of  the  apple  brandy  and  sugar  in  his  face,  and  was 
furious ;  but  as  soon  as  he  seemed  to  recognize  the 
thrower  he  muttered,  apologetically  : 

"  Hokey-pokey  !  By  smoke  !    and  Pangymonum,  too  !" 

When  Levin  looked  at  Van  Dorn  again,  the  blush  was 
on  his  face,  but  the  letter  had  disappeared. 

"Beware  of  the  conservative  course,  Colonel,"  lisped 
Van  Dorn,  "  except  when  generous  Patty  makes  the 
punch ;  for  she  holds  such  measure  of  it  that  she  does 
not  see  our  infirmities." 

"  Honey,"  cried  Patty  Cannon  to  Levin,  giving  him  an 
affectionate  hug,  "  have  ye  swallered  yer  liquor  so  smart 
as  that?  Why,  I  love  to  see  a  nice  boy  drink." 

"  But  no  more  for  him  now,  cajela"  the  Captain  protest 
ed  ;  "  two  such  will  make  him  fall  off  his  horse.  Bebamos, 
Patty !  Esta  excelente  /" — drinking. 

"  How  purty  the  Captain  says  them  things,"  the  mad 
am  cried  to  the  gentleman  within.  "  Maybe  he's  a  mock- 
in'  his  ole  sweetheart.  Oh,  Van  Dorn,  if  I  thought  you 
could  forget  me  I  would  kill  you  !" 

Levin  noticed  the  rapid  temper  and  demoniac  face  of 
this  not  unengaging  lady  as  she  spoke,  her  whole  nature 
turning  its  course  like  a  wheeling  bat,  and  from  plausi 
bility  to  an  instant's  jealousy,  and  then  to  a  dark  tide  of 
awful  rage,  took  but  a  thought. 


362  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Que  disparate  !  hala  o  /ief"  Van  Dorn  lisped,  sweetly, 
chucking  the  hostess  under  the  chin  ;  "but  I  do  love  to 
see  thee  so,  thou  charmer  of  my  life.  Never  will  I  desert 
thee,  Patty,  whilst  thou  can  suffer." 

Her  dark  clouds  slowly  passed  away  as  Levin  turned 
from  the  place,  but  her  small  head  and  abundant  raven 
hair  showed  the  blood  troubled  to  the  roots,  and  the  eyes, 
once  rich  with  midnight  depths,  now  glazing  in  the  course 
of  time,  like  old  window  panes,  by  age,  searched  the  ban 
dit's  face  with  a  strange  fear : 

"Van  Dorn,  time  and  pleasure  cannot  kill  you:  how 
well  you  look  to-day.  I  think  you  are  a  boy,  to  be  ruined 
again  every  time  you  love  me,  you  blush  so  modestly. 
Where  is  that  pot  of  color  you  paint  your  cheeks  with  even 
before  me,  whose  blushes  none  can  recollect  ?  Why  do 
you  love  me  ?" 

"O dios T  said  Van  Dorn  ;  "I  love  thee  for  these  spells 
of  splendor,  dark  night  and  noonday  passion,  the  alter 
nations  of  earth  and  hell  that  eclipse  heaven  altogether. 
I  love  to  see  thee  fear,  though  fearing  nothing  here,  be 
cause  I  see  nothing  that  you  fear  beyond  the  grave.  You 
hate  this  boy  ?" 

"  I  hate  him  worse  than  wrinkles.  Let  him  not  come 
to  me  a  child  to-morrow  j  let  him  see  ghosts  long  as  he 
lives." 

"  How  are  the  prisoners,  Patty  ?" 

"Why,  the  white  nigger,  dovey,  is  sick  to-day;  blood- 
loss  and  blisters  have  give  him  fever.  My  nigger,  that  I 
tied — ha !  ha  !  a  good  job  for  Patty  Cannon,  at  her  age  ! — 
says  t'other's  a  pore  coaster  named  Jimmy  Phcebus." 

"Joe  must  be  ready  for  a  quick  departure,"  the  Cap 
tain  exclaimed,  "when  we  come  back  from  Dover:  it  is 
a  bold  undertaking,  and  the  whole  of  the  little  state  will 
be  aroused  like  a  black  snake  uncoiling  in  one's  pocket." 

The  woman  pointed  from  her  shoulder  towards  the  in 
ner  room,  and  spoke  even  lower  than  before : 


BEGINNING   OF   THE   RAID.  363 

"Van  Dorn,  I  have  a  customer." 
"  For  negroes  ?" 

"  No,  for  Hulcly.     He  shall  have  her." 
#  *****  # 

As  Levin  Dennis  stood  at  the  cross-roads  without,  he 
saw  a  strange  man  ploughing  in  the  farm  so  recently  de 
serted  by  his  hostess  for  the  gayer  cross-roads.  The  aft 
ernoon  light  fell  on  the  sandy  fields  and  struck  a  polish 
from  the  ploughshare,  and,  as  the  ploughman  passed  the 
brambly  spot  again,  the  buzzards  slowly  circled  up,  as  if 
to  protest  that  he  came  too  near  their  young. 

The  long,  lean  servant,  who  had  waited  on  the  break 
fast-table,  came  out  to  Levin  and  watched  his  eyes. 

"Ploughing  ploughing"  he  said.  "Levin,  I  kin  show 
you  how  to  plough :  I  can't  do  it,  but  you're  the  man." 

"  Cyrus,  Huldy  don't  hate  you.  She  says  you're  the 
nighest  to  a  friend  she's  got." 

"  Oh,  I  love  her  like  sugar-cane,"  the  lean,  cymlin-head- 
ed  servant  said.  "  Tell  her  I'm  goin'  to  be  a  great  man. 
I'm  goin'  to  spile  the  game.  They  lick  me,  but  Cy  Jeems 
has  courage,  Levin." 

"  Cyrus,  tell  Huldy  all  that's  goin'  on  agin  her.  We 
don't  know  nothin'.  You  kin  go  and  come  an'  nobody 
watches  you.  Huldy  will  be  grateful  fur  it." 

Putting  his  long  arms  on  his  knees  and  bending  down, 
the  scullion  stared  close  to  Levin's  eyes  and  whispered, 
looking  towards  the  field  : 

"  Ploughin' !  ploughin' !" 

Then,  turning  partly,  and  gazing  over  the  old  tavern 
with  a  look  of  wisdom,  Cy  James  whispered  again  : 

"  Hokey-pokey  !    By  smoke  !  an'  Pangymonum,  too  !" 

"  I  reckon  he's  crazy,"  Levin  thought,  as  the  queer  fel 
low  turned  and  fled. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  when  the  cavalcade  was  re 
viewed  by  Captain  Van  Dorn  from  the  porch  of  the  hotel, 
and  it  consisted  of  about  twenty  persons,  white  and  black  ; 


364  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

some  riding  mules,  some  horses,  and  there  was  one  wagon 
in  the  line — the  same  that  had  been  driven  to  Cannon's 
Ferry — intended  for  Levin,  Joe  Johnson,  and  the  Captain. 
Van  Dorn  stood  blushing,  pulling  his  long  mustache  of 
flax,  and  resting  on  his  cowhide  whip. 

"Dave,"  he  called  to  a  powerful  negro,  "get  down 
from  that  mule  ;  you're  too  drunk  to  go.  Jump  up  in  his 
place,  Owen  Daw !" 

The  widow's  son  gladly  vaulted  on  the  animal. 

"  Sorden,"  continued  Van  Dorn,  "you  know  all  the 
roads  :  lead  the  way  !  Whitecar,  go  with  him  !  We  ren 
dezvous  at  Punch  Hall  at  eight  o'clock.  The  order  of 
inarch  is  in  pairs,  a  quarter  to  half  a  mile  apart.  If  any 
man  acts  in  anything  without  orders,  or  halloos  upon  the 
road,  he  may  get  this  lash  or  he  may  get  my  knife." 

"  Captain,  where  do  we  feed?"  asked  a  small,  wiry  mu 
latto. 

"  Water  at  Federalsburg,"  answered  Van  Dorn  ;  "  feed 
at  the  Punch  Hall." 

They  rode  off  in  pairs  at  intervals  of  ten  minutes  ;  Van 
Dorn's  vehicle  went  last.  A  moment  before  he  departed, 
Cy  James  touched  the  Captain's  sleeve  and  whispered, 
"  Huldy."  Turning  to  see  if  he  was  unobserved,  Van 
Dorn  followed  to  the  deep-arched  chimney  at  the  north 
ern  gable,  and  dismissed  his  guide  with  a  look. 

"  Captain  Van  Dorn,"  Hulda  said,  her  large  gray  eyes 
strained  in  tenderness  and  nervous  courage,  "do  that  boy 
Levin  no  harm :  I  love  him  !  God  forgive  all  your  sins, 
many  as  they  are,  if  you  disobey  grandmother's  wicked 
commands  about  my  darling !" 

"  Ha  !  wild-flower,  you  have  been  listening?" 

"  No,  I  have  only  looked  :  I  know  Aunt  Patty's  petting 
ways  when  she  means  to  ruin,  and  watch  her  black  flashes 
of  cunning  between  :  she  is  no  cousin  of  Levin ;  he  is 
Joe's  gentle  prisoner ;  his  very  name  she  made  him  hide 
when  she  saw  vou  coming  this  morning." 


AFRICA.  365 

"  Creo  que  si:  Hulda,  let  me  kiss  you  !" 

"  Yes,  if  you  dare." 

She  gave  him  that  pure,  soul-driven,  child's  strong  look 
again,  exerting  all  the  influence  she  had  ever  felt  she  ex 
ercised  over  him. 

Nevertheless  he  kissed  her  for  the  first  time: 

"  To-day,  bonito,  I  dare  to  kiss  thee.  Believe  me,  my 
kiss  is  a  tender  one." 

"  Yes,  sir.  There  is  something  like  a  father  in  it.  Oh, 
my  father,  art  thou  in  heaven?" 

"  If  there  be  such  a  place,  wild-flower,  I  think  he  is." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Captain  Van  Dorn.  There  may  you 
also  be  and  find  the  faith  I  feel  in  my  one  day's  love  on 
earth.  I  pray  for  you  every  clay." 

"  Ayme^  poor  weakling  !  Pray  now  for  thyself:  if  thou 
canst  save  thyself  sinless  a  brief  day  or  two,  it  may  be 
well  for  thee  and  Levin.  Thy  grandmother  is  dreadful 
in  her  joys  this  night." 

"  I  can  die,"  said  Hulda,  "if  Levin  be  saved." 

He  kissed  her  again,  and  something  wet  dropped  down 
his  blushes. 

"  Eternal  love  !"  he  sighed  ;  "I've  lost  it." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AFRICA. 

THE  Captain  took  his  place  at  the  reins,  his  picturesque 
velvet  jacket,  wide  hat,  bright  hair,  and  gay  shirt,  thigh- 
ings,  belt,  and  boots,  deserving  all  Patty  Cannon's  enco 
miums  as  he  made  a  polite  adieu  and  threw  his  whip  like 
a  thunderbolt,  and  a  cheer  rose  from  the  discarded  volun 
teers  loitering  about  the  tavern  as  he  drove  Joe  Johnson 
and  Levin  away. 

The  road  was  nearly  dead  level  for  five  miles,  but,  be- 


366  THE    ENTAILED    HAT, 

ing  the  old  travelled  road  from  Laurel  and  the  south  to 
Easton,  and  pointing  towards  Baltimore,  numerous  farms 
and  clearings  were  seen,  and  tobacco  -  fields  alternated 
with  the  dry  corn  and  new-ploughed  wheat  patches.  Here 
and  there,  like  a  measure  of  gold  poured  upon  the  ground, 
the  yellow  ears  lay  in  the  gaunt  corn-rows,  to  become  the 
ground  meal  of  the  slave  and  the  cattle's  winter  sub 
stance.  Joe  Johnson's  popularity  was  everywhere  ap 
parent,  and  many  a  shout  was  given  of,  "  Good  luck  to 
ye,  Joe  !"  "  Tote  us  a  nigger  back  from  Delaway,  Joe !" 
"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  them  ar  black  Blue  Hen's  chick 
ens,  Joe !" 

Van  Dorn  was  too  far  above  the  comprehension  of  his 
neighbors,  or,  indeed,  of  anybody,  to  be  familiarly  ad 
dressed,  but  "  Patty  Cannon's  man  "  was  the  term  of  in 
jured  inferiority  towards  him  after  he  had  passed. 

At  Federalsburg  they  crossed  the  branch  of  the  Nanti- 
coke  piercing  to  the  centre  of  Delaware  state,  and  saw 
one  large  brick  house  of  colonial  appearance  dominating 
the  little  wooden  hamlet,  and  here,  as  generally  within 
the  Maryland  line,  hunting  negroes  was  the  "  lark  "  or  the 
serious  occupation  of  many  an  idle  or  enterprising  fellow, 
who  trained  his  negro  scouts  like  a  setter,  or  more  often 
like  a  spaniel,  and  crossed  the  line  on  appointed  nights 
as  ardently  and  warily  as  the  white  trader  in  Africa  takes 
to  the  trails  of  the  interior- for  human  prey. 

"Joe,"  said  Van  Dorn,  "what  is  to  be  your  disposition 
of  the  prisoners  we  have  ?" 

"  All  goes  with  me  to  Norfolk  but  one, — the  nigger  box 
er  •  I  burn  him  alive  on  Twiford's  island.  If  the  white 
chap  is  too  pickle  to  sell,  I'll  throw  him  overboard;  he 
ain't  safe." 

"Ea!  sus  /  it  is  boyish  to  burn  the  old  lad.  I  have 
had  many  a  blow  from  a  black,  and  stab,  too.  A  dog  will 
bite  you  if  you  lasso  him." 

"  No  nigger  can  knock  me  clown  and  git  off  with  selling." 


AFRICA.  367 

"  Then  you  are  a  bad  trader.  The  negro's  price  is  all 
the  negro  is  ;  why  make  him  your  equal  by  hating  him  ?" 

"  I  am  a  Delaware  boy,"  Joe  Johnson  said,  "  and  it's 
the  pride  with  me  to  give  no  nigger  a  chance.  In  Mary 
land  you  pets  'em,  like  ole  Colonel  Ned  Lloyd  over  yer 
on  the  Wye ;  he's  give  his  nigger  coachman  a  gole  watch 
an'  chain  because  he's  his  son  !  What  a  nimenog !  Some 
day  he'll  raise  a  nigger  that'll  be  makin'  politikle  speech 
es,  an'  then  I  don't  want  to  live  no  more."  * 

"Chito!  Since  the  Delaware  lawyer  sent  you  to  the 
post,  son-in-law,  you're  morose.  I  have  had  to  eat  with 
negro  princes,  dance  with  their  queens,  and  be  ceremoni 
ous  as  if  they  had  been  angels." 

"  It  would  be  the  reign  of  Queen  Dick  for  me  !  I 
couldn't  do  it,  nohow." 

"  And,  by  the  way,  Joseph,  I  may  see  your  friend,  the 
lawyer  Clayton,  at  Dover,  to  night:  he  may  send  me  to  the 
post,  too ;  and  I  fear  no  Delaware  governor  will  take  off 
the  cropping  of  my  ears,  as  was  done  for  you  in  state 
patriotism." 

"  Beware  of  that  imp  of  Tolobon  !"  Joe  Johnson  mut 
tered.  "  How  I  wish  you  could  kill  him, Van  Dorn.  He's 
got  to  be  a  senator ;  some  day  he'll  be  chief-justice  of 
Delaware:  then,  what'll  niggers  be  wuth  thar?" 

"  I  fancy,  Joseph,  you  might  be  a  legislator  in  Delaware 
if  your  inclinations  ran  that  way  ?" 

"  Easy  enough,  but  I  makes  legislators.  My  wife, 
Margaretta — her  first  husband's  sister  is  the  wife  of  the 
chancellor." 

"  Hola  !  oh  !    How  came  that  great  alliance  ?" 

"  She  was  housekeeper ;  he  was  a  close  old  bachelor 
and  must  break  a  leg.  *  Well,'  she  says,  '  you're  a  dad 
dy;  justice  is  your  trade,  and  I  must  have  it.'  So,  from 

*  Frederick  Douglass,  afterwards  Marshal  of  the  District  of  Colum 
bia,  was  at  this  time  a  slave  boy  twelve  years  okl,  living  about  twen 
ty  miles  from  the  scene  of  this  conversation. 


368  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

bein'  his  peculiar,  she  becomes  the  madam  ;  but  she  in- 
weuted  the  kid." 

"  I  have  never  been  in  Dover ;  how  shall  I  tell  where 
Lawyer  Clayton  dwells  ?" 

"It's  on  the  green  a-middle  of  the  town,  a-standin' by 
the  state-house — a  long,  roughcast  house  in  the  corner, 
three  stones  high,  with  two  doors ;  the  door  next  the 
state-house  is  his  office.  Go  past  the  state-house,  which 
has  a  cupelo  onto  it,  an'  you  see  the  jug  an'  whippin'- 
post.  He's  got  'em  handy  fur  you." 

Levin  listened  with  all  his  ears.  The  liquor  was  now 
well  out  of  his  system,  and  he  thanked  God  he  had  re 
fused  Patty  Cannon's  burning  dram,  else  he  might  be  this 
night — he  thought  it  with  remorse — the  reckless  mate  for 
Owen  Daw,  whose  own  mother  had  predicted  the  gallows 
for  him. 

"  And  now,  Van  Dorn,  I  turn  back,"  Joe  Johnson  said; 
"I  have  a  job  to  do  down  the  Peninsuly.  McLane  has 
become  the  owner  of  a  gal  thar,  an'  wants  her  sneaked.  I 
takes  black  Dave  with  me,  an'  when  I'm  back,  my  boat 
will  be  ready  an'  my  cargo  packed.  Then  hey  fur  Flor- 
idey !" 

He  unhaltered  his  horse  at  the  tail  of  the  wagon, 
mounted  him,  and  rode  back  across  the  stream.  Van 
Dorn  touched  his  horses  and  entered  the  dense  woods  in 
a  byway  to  the  north. 

"  Get  up  here,  Master  Levin,  and  ride  by  me,"  the 
Captain  said,  very  soon,  and  he  lifted  Levin's  old  hat 
from  his  head  and  looked  at  his  bright  hair  parted  in  the 
middle,  his  fine,  large  eyes,  needing  the  light  of  knowl 
edge,  and  his  soft  complexion  and  marks  of  good  extrac 
tion. 

"  Where  is  thy  father,  Levin,  to  let  thee  go  so  ragged, 
with  such  graceful  limbs  and  feet  as  these  ?" 

"  Shipwrecked,"  said  Levin  ;  "  gone  down,  I  'spect,  on 
the  privateer." 


AFRICA.  369 

"  A  sailor,  was  he  ?  Well,  he  should  be  home  to  clothe 
thee  and  see  that  thou  dost  not  cheat.  I  marked  how 
Madam  Cannon's  punch  was  tossed  out  of  the  window." 

"  I  thought  you  would  not  want  me  drunk  beside  you 
all  night,  sir,  and  then  I  might  enjoy  your  company.  I 
don't  want  to  drink  no  more  liquor." 

"  You  like  my  company  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  Captain  blushed,  and  asked, 

"Why  do  you  like  me?" 

"  Not  fur  nothin'  you  do,  sir.  I  like  you  fur  somethin' 
in  your  ways ;  I  reckon  you're  a  smart  man." 

"  Si,  senor,  that  I  am.  I  have  gained  the  whole  world 
and  lost  two." 

"  Two  worlds,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,  two  immortal  worlds ;  that  is  to  say,  two  unac 
countable  worlds.  I  am  no  Christian." 

"  Maybe  you're  Chinee  or  Mahometan,  then,  sir ;  I 
'spect  everybody's  got  a  religion." 

"  I  was  a  Mahometan  for  business  ends,"  Van  Dorn 
said.  "  Having  become  a  slaver,  it  was  nothing  to  be  a 
renegade.  Stealing  a  man's  soul  every  day,  I  put  no 
value  on  mine.  Yes.  Mahomet  is  the  prophet  of  God :  so 
are  you." 

"  You  have  been  in  Afrikey,  I  'spect,"  suggested  Levin. 

"  A  few  years  only,  but  long  enough  to  be  rich  and 
to  be  ruined.  I  know  the  negro  coast  from  the  Gambia 
to  Cape  Palmas,  and  inland  to  Timbo.  I  have  had  an 
African  queen  and  the  African  fever :  I  went  to  conquer 
Africa  and  became  a  slave." 

"In  Africa,  I  'spect,  Captain,"  Levin  remarked,  without 
inference,  "a  nigger-trader  is  respectable." 

Van  Dorn  shook  his  head. 

"  I  doubt  if  that  trade  is  respectable  anywhere  on  this 
globe,  unless  it  be  here.  No,  I  will  say  for  these  people, 
too,  that  while  they  do  it  low  lip  homage,  they  look  down 
24 


37°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

on  it.  I  was  once  the  greatest  guest  in  Timbo,  housed 
with  its  absolute  prince,  attended  by  my  suite,  looking  like 
an  ambassador,  and  he  called  me  *  his  son  '  and  drew  me 
to  his  breast.  Proclamations  were  made  that  I  should  be 
respected  as  such,  yet  every  human  object  fled  before  me. 
As  I  rode  out  alone  to  see  the  gardens  and  cassava  fields, 
the  roaming  goats  and  oxen,  and  the  rich  mountain  pros 
pects,  and  saw  the  sloe-eyed  girls  bathing  in  the  brooks, 
the  cry  went  round,  *  Flesh-buyer  is  coming,'  and  huts 
were  deserted,  fields  forsaken,  the  gray  patriarchs  and  the 
little  children  ran,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  the  dumb 
animals,  despised,  abhorred." 

"  Don't  they  have  slavery  thair,  sir?" 

"Yes,  slavery  immemorial,  yet  the  slave-buyer  is  no 
more  respectable  than  the  procurer.  The  coin  of  Africa, 
its  only  medium,  was  the  slave.  He  paid  the  debt  of 
war,  of  luxury,  and  of  business.  Yet  the  soul  of  man,  in 
the  familiar  study  of  such  universal  slavery,  grovels  with 
it,  and  points  to  bright  destiny  no  more  with  the  head 
erect :  I  died  in  Africa." 

"Ain't  you  in  the  business  now,  sir?" 

"  Now  I  am  a  mere  forest  thief  and  bushman,  Levin. 
He  who  begins  a  base  trade  rises  early  to  its  fulness,  and 
in  subsequent  life  must  be  a  poor  wolf  rejected  from  the 
pack,  stealing  where  he  can  sneak  in.  Such  is  the  kid 
napper  eking  out  the  decayed  days  of  the  slaver;  such 
is  the  ruined  voluptuary,  living  at  last  on  the  earnings  of 
some  shameless  woman  ;  such  am  I :  behold  me  !" 

Van  Dorn's  eyes  turned  on  Levin  in  their  cold,  heart 
less  light,  and  yet  he  blushed,  as  usual. 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  gentleman,  Captain.  What  made 
you  break  the  laws  so  and  be  a  bad  man  ?" 

"Ayml!  ayme  /"  mused  Van  Dorn,  "shall  I  tell  you? 
It  was  Africa.  I  was  a  high-minded  youth,  cool  and  bold, 
and  with  a  thread  of  pleasure  in  me.  I  went  to  sea  in  a 
manly  trade,  and,  fortune  being  slow,  they  whispered  to 


AFRICA.  371 

me,  in  the  West  Indies,  that  my  clipper  was  just  the 
thing  for  the  slave-trade,  and  I  made  the  first  venture  out 
of  virtue,  which  is  all  the  voyage.  In  Africa  I  fell  a  prey 
to  the  voluptuous  life  a  white  man  leads  there,  to  which 
the  very  missionaries  are  not  always  exceptions.  Young, 
pale,  gentle,  graceful,  brave,  my  blushes  instant  as  my 
passions,  the  ceaseless  intrigue  of  that  hot  climate  circled 
around  me  like  a  dance  in  the  harem  around  the  young 
intruder  :  I  forgot  my  native  land  and  every  obligation 
in  it ;  I  was  enslaved  by  Africa  to  its  swooning  joys  ;  I 
went  there  like  the  serpent  and  was  stung  by  the  woman." 

"Ain't  they  all  right  black  and  ugly  in  Africa,  Cap 
tain  ?" 

"  The  world  has  not  the  equals  of  Senegambia  for 
beauty,"  said  Van  Dorn.  "  The  Fullah  beauties  are  often 
almost  white,  and  the  black  admixture  is  no  more  than 
varnish  on  the  maple -tree.  And  even  here,  my  lad, 
where  civilization  builds  a  wall  of  social  fire  around  the 
slave,  you  often  mark  the  idolatry  of  the  white  head  to 
captive  Africa." 

"  Did  you  make  money  ?" 

"  For  some  years  I  did,  plenty  of  it ;  but  degradation 
in  the  midst  of  pleasure  weighed  down  my  spirits.  The 
thing  called  honor  had  flown  from  over  me  like  the  heav 
enly  dove,  and  in  its  place  a  hundred  painted  birds  flocked 
joyfully,  the  dazzling  creatures  of  that  thoughtless  world. 
Oh,  that  I  could  have  been  born  there  or  never  have  seen 
it !  At  last  I  started  home,  but  the  world  had  adopted  a 
new  commandment,  '  Thou  shalt  not  trade  in  man.' 
They  took  my  ship  and  all  its  black  cargo,  and  I  came 
home  naked.  Then  my  heart  was  broke,  and  I  turned 
kidnapper." 

"  Home  is  the  best  place,"  said  Levin ;  "  I  'spect  it  is, 
even  if  folks  is  pore.  When  Jimmy  Phcebus  give  me  a 
boat  I  thought  I  was  rich  as  a  Jew." 

"What  is  that  name?"  asked  Van  Dorn. 


372  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"James  Phoebus  :  he's  mother's  sweetheart." 

"  Ce  ce  ce  /"  the  Captain  mused;  "your  mother  lives, 
then  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  She's  pore,  but  Jimmy  loves  her,  and  the 
ghost  of  father  feeds  her." 

"QiiedoJ  a  ghost?  what  kind  of  thing  is  that?  Aunt 
Patty  sees  them  :  I  never  do." 

"  It  comes  an'  puts  sugar  an'  coffee  in  the  window,  an' 
sometimes  a  pair  of  shoes  an'  a  dress.  Mother  says  it's 
father:  I  guess  it  is." 

"O  Dies!"  lisped  Van  Dorn.  "This  Phoebus,  is  he  a 
good  man?" 

"Brave  as  a  lion,  sir  ;  pore  as  any  pungy  captain  ;  the 
best  friend  I  ever  had.  I  hoped  mother  would  marry 
him,  he's  been  a-waitin'  fur  her  so  long.  She's  afraid 
father  ain't  dead." 

"O  hala,hala!  women  are  such  waiters;  but  this  man 
can  wait  too.  Is  he  strong  ?" 

"  He  come  mighty  nigh  givin'  Joe  Johnson  a  lickin'  last 
Sunday,  sir,  in  Princess  Anne.  He  hates  a  nigger-trader. 
Him  an'  Samson  Hat,  a  black  feller,  thinks  as  much  of 
each  other  as  two  brothers." 

"  And  he  gave  you  a  boat  ?" 

"Yes,  sir:  Joe  Johnson  hired  it  of  me,  but  I  didn't 
know  he  was  goin'  to  run  away  niggers.  He's  got  my 
boat  an'  ruined  my  credit,  I  'spect,  in  Princess  Anne,  an' 
what  will  mother  do  when  I  go  to  jail  ?" 

"  Why,  this  other  man,  Phcebus,  is  there  to  marry  her 
or  look  after  her." 

"  Oh,  Captain,"  sobbed  Levin,  putting  his  hands  on  Van 
Dorn's  knees,  and  laying  his  orphan  head  there  too, 
"pore  Jimmy's  dead:  Joe  Johnson  shot  him." 

The  Captain  did  not  move  or  speak. 

"  I've  been  a  drunkard,  Captain,"  Levin  sobbed  again, 
in  the  confidence  of  a  child  ;  "  that's  whair  all  our  misery 
comes  from.  I've  got  nothin'  but  my  boat,  an'  people 


PEACH    BLUSH.  373 

hires  it  to  go  gunnin'  an'  fishin'  and  spreein',  and  they 
takes  liquor  with  'em,  an'  I  drinks.  God  help  me  ;  I 
never  will  agin,  but  die  first !" 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  to  lean  on  me  ?"  lisped  Van  Dorn. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  I  have  killed  people,  too." 

"  The  Lord  forgive  you,  sir;  I  know  you  won't  kill  me" 

A  sigh  broke  from  the  bandit's  lips,  in  place  of  his  usual 
soft  lisp,  and  was  followed  by  a  warm  drop  of  water,  as 
from  the  forest  leaves  now  bathed  in  night,  that  plashed 
on  Levin's  neck. 

"  O  God,"  a  soft  voice  said,  "  may  I  not  die  ?" 

Then  Levin  felt  the  same  warm  drops  fall  many 
times  upon  him,  and  his  nature  opened  like  the  plants 
to  rain. 

"  I  have  found  a  friend,  Captain,"  the  boy  spoke,  after 
several  minutes,  but  not  looking  up;  "  I  feel  you  cry." 

"C/iito!  chito!"  lisped  Van  Dorn;  "here  is  Punch 
Hall." 

Levin  raised  his  head,  and  saw  nothing  but  an  old 
house  standing  in  the  trees,  with  a  little  faint  light  stream 
ing  from  the  door,  and  heard  the  low  hilarity  of  drinking 
men.  The  whole  band  poured  out  to  receive  Van  Dorn's 
commands. 

"  One  hour  here  to  feed  and  rest !"  Van  Dorn  ex 
claimed.  "Let  those  sleep  who  can.  Let  any  straggle 
or  riot  who  dare  !" 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PEACH    BLUSH. 


JUDGE  CUSTIS,  whom  we  left  riding  out  of  Princess 
Anne  on  Sunday  afternoon,  kept  straight  north,  crossed 
the  bottom  of  Delaware  in  the  early  evening,  and  went  to 


374  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

bed  at  Laurel,  on  Broad  Creek,  a  few  miles  south  of 
Cannon's  Ferry. 

At  daylight  he  was  ahorse  again,  scarcely  stiff  from  his 
exertion,  and  feeling  the  rising  joys  of  a  stomach  and 
brain  becoming  clearer  than  for  years,  of  all  the  forms  of 
alcohol.  His  mind  had  been  bathed  in  sleep  and  tem 
perance,  the  two  great  physicians,  and  wiped  dry,  like  the 
feet  of  the  Prince  of  sufferers,  with  women's  hairs.  Exer 
cise,  natural  to  a  Virginian,  awakened  his  flowing  spirits 
again,  and  he  fancied  the  air  grew  purer  as  he  advanced 
into  the  north,  though  there  was  hardly  any  perceptible 
change  of  elevation.  The  country  grew  drier,  however, 
as  he  turned  the  head  springs  of  the  great  cypress  swamp 
—the  counterbalance  of  the  Dismal  Swamp  of  Virginia — 
receded  from  the  Chesapeake  waters,  and  approached  the 
tributaries  of  the  Atlantic.  At  nine  o'clock  he  entered 
the  court-house  cluster  of  Georgetown,  a  little  place  of  a 
few  hundred  people,  pitched  nearly  at  the  centre  of  the 
county  one  generation  before,  or  about  ten  years  after  the 
independence  of  the  country. 

It  was  a  level  place  of  shingle-boarded  houses,  assem 
bled  around  a  sandy  square,  in  which  were  both  elm  and 
Italian  poplar  trees ;  and  a  double-storied  wooden  court 
house  was  on  the  farther  side,  surrounded  by  little  cab 
ins  for  the  county  officers,  pitched  here  and  there,  and  in 
the  rear  was  a  jail  of  two  stories,  with  family  apartments 
below,  and  the  dungeon  window,  the  debtors'  room,  and 
a  family  bedroom  above;  and  near  the  jail  and  court 
house  stood  the  whipping-post,  like  a  dismantled  pump, 
with  a  pillory  floor  some  feet  above  the  ground. 

Young  maples,  mulberry  and  tulip  trees,  and  ailan- 
thuses  grew  bravely  to  make  shade  along  the  two  streets 
which  pierced  the  square,  and  the  four  streets  which  were 
parallel  to  its  sides — pretty  lanes  being  inserted  between, 
to  which  the  loamy  gardens  ran  ;  and,  as  the  Judge 
stopped  at  the  tavern  near  the  court,  he  was  told  it  was 


PEACH    BLUSH.  375 

"  returning  day,"  and  the  place  would  soon  be  filled  with 
constituents  assembling  to  hear  how  "  she'd  gone  " — 
she,  as  the  Judge  knew  well,  meaning  Sussex  County, 
and  "gone"  intimating  her  decision  expressed  at  the 
polls. 

"  She's  gone  for  Adams  an'  Clayton,  ain't  she,  Jonathan 
Torbert  ?"  asked  the  innkeeper. 

"Yes,"  spoke  a  plain,  religious-looking  man,  the  teller 
of  the  bank ;  "  Johnny  Clayton's  kept  Sussex  and  Kent 
in  line  for  Adams ;  Jeems  Bayard  and  the  McLanes 
have  captured  Newcastle:  Clayton  goes  to  the  senate, 
Louis  McLane  to  the  cabinet,  the  country  to  the  alliga 
tors." 

"  Hurrah  for  Jackson  !"  answered  the  host ;  "  he  suits 
me  ever  since  he  whipped  the  British." 

At  breakfast  Judge  Custis  recognized  a  gentleman 
opposite,  wearing  smallclothes,  and  with  his  hair  in  a 
queue,  who  spoke  without  other  than  a  passively  kind  ex 
pression  : 

"Judge." 

"Ah!  Chancellor!" 

The  Chancellor  was  nearly  seventy  years  old,  wearing 
an  humble,  meditative,  yet  gracious  look,  as  one  whose 
relations  to  this  world  were  those  of  stewardship,  and 
whose  nearly  obsolete  dress  was  the  badge,  not  of  world 
ly  pride,  but  of  perished  joys  and  contemporaries.  His 
unaffected  countenance  seemed  to  say  :  "  I  wear  it  be 
cause  it  is  useless  to  put  off  what  no  one  else  will  wear, 
when  presently  I  shall  need  nothing  but  a  shroud." 

Judge  Custis  looked  at  the  meek  old  gentleman  close 
ly,  sitting  at  his  plate  like  a  lay  brother  in  some  monas 
tery  or  infirmary,  indifferent  to  talk  or  news  or  affairs  ; 
and  the  remembrance  of  what  he  had  been — keen,  accu 
mulative,  with  youthful  passions  long  retained,  and  the 
man  buoyant  under  the  judge's  guard — impressed  the 
Virginian  to  say  to  himself: 


376  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  What,  then,  is  man  !  At  last  old  age  asserts  itself, 
and  bends  the  brazen  temple  of  his  countenance,  like 
Samson,  in  almost  pious  remorse.  There  sits  twenty- 
five  years  of  equity  administration  ;  behind  it,  thirty  years 
of  jocund  and  various  life.  No  newspaper  shall  ever  re 
cord  it,  because  none  are  printed  here ;  he  is  indifferent 
to  that  forgetfulness  and  to  all  others,  because  the  springs 
of  life  are  dry  in  his  body,  and  he  no  more  enjoys." 

"  Are  you  travelling  north,  Judge  Custis?"  the  old  man 
asked,  for  politeness'  sake. 

"Yes,  to  Dover." 

"  There  is  a  seat  in  my  carriage  ;  you  are  welcome  to 
it." 

"  I  will  take  it  a  part  of  the  way,  at  least,  to  feel  the 
privilege  of  your  society,  Chancellor." 

The  old  man  gave  a  slow,  side  wise  shake  of  his  head. 

"Too  late,  too  late,"  he  said,  "to  flatter  me.  I  was 
fond  of  it  once.  I  have  been  a  flatterer,  too." 

The  Chancellor's  black  boy  was  put  on  the  Judge's 
horse,  and  the  two  men,  in  a  plain,  country-made,  light, 
square  vehicle,  turned  the  court-house  corner  for  the 
north.  As  they  passed  the  door  they  heard  the  sheriff 
knock  off  two  slaves  to  a  purchaser,  crying : 

"  Your  property,  sir,  till  they  are  twenty-five  years  of 
age." 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed,  in  a  great  horse  laugh,  a  nearly 
chinless  villager;  "say  till  ole  Patty  Cannon  can  git 
'em  !" 

The  purchaser  gave  a  cunning,  self-convicted  smile  at 
the  passing  chancellor,  whose  look  of  resignation  only 
deepened  and  grew  more  humble.  The  Judge  had  some 
vague  recollection  which  moved  him  to  change  the  sub 
ject. 

"We  see  each  other  but  little,  Chancellor,  though  we 
divide  the  same  little  heritage  of  land.  I  suppose  your 
people  are  all  proud  of  Delaware." 


PEACH    BLUSH.  377 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  man  ;  "  being  such  a  little  adven 
turer,  a  mere  foundling  in  the  band  of  states,  our  people 
have  the  pride  of  their  independence.  The  laws  are  ad 
ministered,  some  more  farms  are  opened  in  the  forest 
every  year,  blossoms  come,  and  old  men  die  and  are  bur 
ied  on  their  farms,  and  their  bones  respected  a  few  years. 
Our  history  is  so  pastoral  that  we  must  show  some  tem 
per  when  it  is  assailed,  or  we  might  let  out  our  ignorance 
of  it." 

They  rode  in  silence  some  hours  through  an  older 
settled  and  more  open  country,  with  some  large  mill- 
ponds  and  a  better  class  of  farm  improvements,  and  the 
sense  of  some  large  water  near  at  hand  was  mystically  felt. 

The  Judge  followed  the  old  man's  eyes  at  one  place, 
seeing  that  they  were  raised  with  an  expression  of  tran 
quil  satisfaction,  like  aged  piety,  and  a  beautiful  landscape 
of  soft  green  marsh  lay  under  their  gaze  from  a  slight 
elevation  they  had  reached,  showing  cattle  and  sheep 
roving  in  it,  tall  groves  where  cows  and  horses  found 
midday  shade,  and  winding  creeks,  carrying  sails  of  hid 
den  boats,  as  if  in  a  magical  cruise  upon  the  velvet  verd 
ure.  Haystacks  and  farm  settlements  stood  out  in  the 
long  levels,  and  sailing  birds  speckled  the  air.  In  the 
far  distance  lay  something  like  more  marsh,  yet  also  like 
the  clouds. 

"  It  is  the  Delaware  Bay,"  the  Chancellor  said. 

They  soon  entered  a  well-built  little  town  on  a  naviga 
ble  creek,  with  a  large  millpond,  sawmills,  several  ves 
sels  building  on  the  stocks,  and  an  air  of  superior  vi 
tality  to  anything  Judge  Custis  had  seen  in  Delaware. 
Here  the  Chancellor  pointed  out  the  late  home  of  Sena 
tor  Clayton's  father,  and,  after  the  horses  had  been  fed, 
they  continued  still  northward,  passing  another  small 
town  on  a  creek  near  the  marshes,  and.  a  little  beyond  it, 
came  to  a  venerable  brick  church,  a  little  from  the  road, 
in  a  grove  of  oaks  and  forest  trees. 


37$  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Here  is  Barrett's  chapel,"  said  the  Chancellor;  "cel 
ebrated  for  the  plotting  of  the  campaign  between  Wes 
ley's  native  and  English  preachers  for  the  conquest  of 
America  as  soon  as  the  crown  had  lost  it." 

They  looked  up  over  the  broad-gabled,  Quakerly  edi 
fice,  with  its  broad,  low  door,  high  roof,  double  stories  of 
windows,  and  a  higher  window  in  the  gable,  trim  rows  of 
arch-bricks  over  door  and  windows,  and  belt  masonry; 
and  heard  the  tall  trees  hush  it  to  sleep  like  a  baby  left 
to  them.  Nearly  fifty  feet  square,  and  probably  fifty 
years  ol,d,  it  looked  to  be  good  for  another  hundred 
years. 

"  My  family  in  Accomac  was  harsh  with  the  Metho 
dists  through  a  mistaken  conservatism,"  Judge  Cnstis 
said.  "  They  are  a  good  people  ;  they  seem  to  suit  this 
peninsula  like  the  peach-tree." 

A  small  funeral  procession  was  turning  into  Barrett's 
chapel,  and  the  Chancellor  interrogated  one  of  the  more 
indifferent  followers  as  to  the  dead  person.  Having  men 
tioned  the  name,  the  citizen  said  : 

"  His  death  was  mysterious.  He  was  a  Methodist  and 
a  good  man,  but  it  seems  that  avarice  was  gnawing  his 
principles  away.  A  slave  boy,  soon  to  become  free  by 
law,  disappeared  from  his  possession,  and  he  gave  it  out 
that  the  boy  had  run  away.  But  suddenly  our  neighbor 
began  to  drink  and  to  display  money,  and  they  say  he 
had  the  boy  kidnapped.  He  died  like  one  with  an  at 
tack  of  despair." 

As  they  turned  again  northward,  in  the  genial  after 
noon,  Judge  Custis  said  : 

"What  a  stigma  on  both  sides,  Chancellor,  is  this  kid 
napping!" 

The  old  man  meekly  looked  down  and  did  not  reply. 
Judge  Custis,  feeling  that  there  was  some  sensitiveness  on 
this  and  kindred  subjects,  yet  why  he  could  not  recollect, 
continued,  under  the  impulse  of  his  feelings  : 


PEACH    BLUSH.  379 

"  The  night  before  I  left  Princess  Anne,  Joe  Johnson, 
one  of  your  worst  kidnappers,  boldly  came  to  my  house 
for  lodging.  Why  I  let  him  stay  there  is  a  subject  of 
wonder  and  contempt  to  myself.  But  there  he  was,  per 
haps  when  I  came  away." 

"  Not  a  prudent  thing  to  permit,"  the  old  man  groaned. 

"  I  knew  his  wife  was  the  widow  of  a  gallows'  bird,  one 
Brereton  —  the  name  is  Yankee.  He  was  hanged  for 
highway  robbery." 

A  muffled  sound  escaped  the  sober  old  gentleman  of 
Delaware. 

"  You  should  remember  the  murder,  Chancellor.  It 
happened  in  this  state.  This  Brereton  killed  a  slave- 
buyer  for  what  he  brought  here  upon  his  person  to  buy 
the  kidnapped  free  people  and  apprentice-slaves.  Brere 
ton  was  the  son-in-law  of  Patty  Cannon,  that  infamous 
pander  between  Delaware  and  the  South." 

The  old  Chancellor  looked  up. 

"  I  wish  to  anticipate  you,"  he  said,  "  in  what  you  might 
further  say  with  truth,  but  perhaps  do  not  fully  know. 
The  murderer,  Brereton,  was  the  son-in-law  of  Patty  Can 
non,  it  is  true ;  but  he  was  also  the  brother-in-law  of  my 
self." 

"Impossible!"  Judge  Custis  said. 

"Yes,  sir  ;  I  married  his  sister." 

The  old  Chancellor  again  turned  his  eyes  to  the 
ground. 

"Great  heavens!"  exclaimed  the  Judge;  "how  many 
curious  things  can  be  in  such  a  little  state !" 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  that  Judge  Dan 
iel  Custis  rode  into  a  small  town  on  an  undulating  plain, 
around  two  sides  of  which,  at  hardly  half  a  mile  distance, 
ran  a  creek  through  a  pretty  wooded  valley,  and  a  third 
side  was  bounded  by  a  branch  of  the  same  creek,  all 
winding  through  copse,  splutter-dock,  lotus-flower,  and 
marsh  to  the  Delaware  Bay. 


380  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

At  the  centre  of  the  town,  on  the  swell  or  crest  of  al 
luvial  soil,  of  a  light  sandy  loam  foundation,  an  oblong 
public  square,  divided  by  a  north  and  south  street,  con 
tained  the  principal  dwellings  of  the  place,  one  of 
which  was  the  Delaware  State  Capitol,  a  red-brick  build 
ing,  a  little  older  than  the  American  Constitution,  with 
a  bell-crowned  cupola  above  its  centre,  and  thence  could 
be  seen  the  Delaware  Bay. 

Near  the  state-house  stood  the  whipping-post  in  the 
corner,  humble  as  a  hitching-post,  and  the  brick  jail  hid 
out  of  the  way  there  also,  like  an  unpresentable  servant 
ever  cringing  near  his  master's  company.  Various  build 
ings,  generally  antique,  surrounded  this  prim,  Quakerly 
square,  some  brick,  and  with  low  portals,  others  smart, 
and  remodelled  to  suit  the  times ;  some  were  mere  wood 
en  offices  or  huts,  with  long  dormers  falling  from  the  roof- 
ridge  nearly  to  the  eaves,  like  a  clingy  feather  from  a  hat- 
crown,  with  a  jewel  in  the  end ;  and  one  was  an  old 
steep-roofed  hotel,  painted  yellow,  with  a  long,  lounging 
side. 

At  diagonal  corners  of  this  square,  as  far  apart  as  its 
space  would  permit,  two  venerable  doctors'  homes  still 
stood,  which  had  given  more  repute  to  Delaware's  little 
capital  than  its  jurists  or  statesmen, — the  former  resi 
dence  of  Sykes  the  surgeon  and  Miller  the  pathologist 
and  writer. 

It  was  at  the  former  of  these  houses,  a  many-windowed, 
tall,  side-fronting  house  of  plastered  brick,  with  side  office 
and  centre  door,  that  Judge  Custis  stopped  and  hitched 
his  horse  to  a  rack  near  the  state-house  adjoining.  The 
sound  of  twittering  birds  fell  from  the  large  elms,  willows, 
and  maples  on  the  square,  and  Custis  could  see  the  rob 
ins  running  in  the  grass. 

From  the  door  of  the  two-storied  side  office  the  sound 
of  a  violin  came  tenderly,  and  the  Judge  waited  until  the 
tune  was  done,  when  loud  exclamations  of  pleasure,  the 


PEACH    BLUSH.  3*8 1 

clapping  of  hands,  and  the  stamping  of  feet,  showed  that 
the  fiddler  was  not  alone. 

Presenting  himself  at  the  door,  Judge  Custis  was  imme 
diately  confronted  by  a  large,  tall  man,  fully  six  feet  high, 
with  a  strong  countenance  and  sandy  hair,  who  carried 
the  fiddle  and  bow  in  his  hand,  and  with  the  other  hand 
seized  Judge  Custis  almost  affectionately,  and  drew  him 
in,  crying : 

"  Why,  how  is  my  old  friend  ?  Goy  !  how  does  he  do  ? 
Who  could  have  expected  you  on  this  simple  occasion  ? 
Sit  down  there'  and  take  my  own  chair !  Not  that  little 
one — no,  the  big  easy-chair  for  my  old  friend  !  Goy  !" 

As  Judge  Custis  cast  his  eye  around,  to  note  the  com 
pany,  the  demonstrative  host,  with  a  flash  of  his  gray-blue 
eyes,  whispered, 

"Who  is  he?  who  is  he?" 

"  A  Custis,"  whispered  a  person  hardly  the  better  off 
for  his  drams ;  "  I  reckon  he  is,  by  the  lips  and  skin." 

"  Goy  !"  rapidly  spoke  the  fiddler.  "  Friend  Custis— 
I  know  my  heart  does  not  deceive  me  ! — let  me  introduce 
you  to  the  very  essence  of  grand  old  little  Delaware : 
here  is  Bob  Frame,  the  ardent  spirit  of  our  bar ;  this  is 
James  Bayard,  our  misguided  Democratic  favorite;  here 
is  Charley  Marim  and  Secretary  Harrington,  and  my  es 
teemed  friend  Senator  Ridgely,  and  my  cousin,  Chief- 
justice  Clayton.  We  are  all  here,  and  all  honored  by 
such  a  rare  guest.  Goy !" 

As  the  Judge  went  through  the  hand-shaking  process, 
the  tall,  well-fed  host  stooped  to  the  convivial  person 
again,  and,  with  his  hand  to  the  side  of  his  mouth,  and 
an  air  of  solemn  cunning,  whispered  : 

"Where  from?" 

"  Accomac,  or  Somerset,  I  reckon,"  muttered  the  other. 

"  Now,"  exclaimed  the  host,  taking  both  of  Judge  Cus- 
tis's  hands,  "how  do  our  dear  friends  all  get  along  in 
Somerset  and  Accomac  ?  \Vhere  do  you  call  home  now, 


32  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Friend  Custis?  How  are  our  old  friends  Spence  and 
Upshur,  and  Polk  and  Franklin  and  Harry  Wise?  Goy ! 
how  I  love  our  neighbors  below." 

There  was  a  strength  of  articulation  and  physical  em 
phasis  in  the  speaker  that  the  Judge  noted  at  once,  and 
it  was  attended  with  a  beaming  of  the  eyes  and  a  fine 
fortitude  of  the  large  jaws  that  made  him  nearly  mag 
netic. 

"  And  this  is  John  M.  Clayton  ?"  said  the  Judge.  "  We 
are  not  so  far  off  that  we  have  not  fully  heard  of  you. 
And  now,  since  I  belong  to  a  numerous  family,  let  me 
identify  myself,  Clayton,  as  Daniel  Castis,  late  Judge  on 
the  Eastern  Shore." 

"Judge  Custis!  Daniel  Cuslis !  Friends,"  looking 
around,  "what  an  honor!  Think  of  it !  The  eminent 
American  manufacturer !  The  creator  of  our  industries  ! 
The  friend  of  Mr.  Clay  and  the  home  policy !  Bayard, 
you  need  not  shake  your  head  !  Ridgely,  pardon  my 
patriotic  enthusiasm  !  Look  at  a  man,  my  friends,  at 
last !  Goy !" 

As  the  Judge  listened  to  various  affirmations  of  wel 
come,  Mr.  Clayton,  with  one  eye  winked  and  the  other 
resting  on  Lawyer  Frame,  the  ardent  spirit  of  the  bar, 
made  the  motion  with  his  lips  : 

"Cambridge?" 

"No;  Princess  Anne." 

"  And  dear  old  Princess  Anne,  how  does  she  fare  ?'' — 
he  had  again  turned  to  the  Judge — "how  is  the  little 
river  Wicomico — no,  I  mean  Manokin — how  does  it  flow  ? 
Does  it  flow  benevolently  ?  Does  it  abound  in  the  best 
oysters  I  ever  tasted  ?  in  tarrapin,  too  ?  How  is  she 
now  ?  Goy !" 

"Are  you  on  your  way  north,  Brother  Custis,  or  going 
home  ?"  the  keen,  black-eyed  Chief-justice  asked. 

"  No,  my  journey  is  ended.  I  came  to  Dover  to  be  ac 
quainted  with  Mr.  Clayton." 


PEACH    BLUSH.  383 

"Aunt  Braner.  Hyo  !  Come  yer,  Aunt  Braner !"  the 
host  cried  loudly,  and  an  old  colored  woman  carne  in, 
closely  followed  by  some  of  her  grandchildren,  who  stood, 
gazing,  at  the  door.  "  Take  this  gentleman  and  give  him 
the  best  room  in  my  house.  The  best  ain't  good  enough 
for  him  !  Take  him  right  up  and  give  him  water  and 
make  your  son  bresh  him,  and  we'll  send  him  the  best 
julep  in  Kent  County.  Goy  1" 

"De  bes'  room  was  Miss  Sally's,  Mr.  Clayton,"  the  old 
woman  answered. 

A  sudden  change  came  over  the  highly  prompt  and 
sanguine  face  of  the  host ;  he  hesitated,  wandered  in  the 
eyes,  and  caught  himself  on  the  words : 

"  No,  give  him  the  Speaker  Chew  room  :  that'll  suit 
him  best." 

As  the  Judge  followed  the  servant  out,  the  young  Sen 
ator  emptied  his  mouth  of  a  large  piece  of  tobacco  into 
a  monster  spittoon  that  a  blind  man  could  hardly  miss, 
and,  with  a  face  still  long  and  silent,  and  much  at  vari 
ance  with  his  previous  spontaneity,  he  absently  in 
quired  : 

"What  can  he  want?  what  can  he  want?" 

One  of  the  small  negro  children  had  meantime  toddled 
in  at  the  door,  and,  with  large,  liquid  eyes  in  its  solemn, 
desirous  face,  laid  hands  on  the  fiddle  and  looked  up  at 
Mr.  Clayton. 

"  Bless  the  little  child  !"  he  suddenly  said.  "  Wants  a 
tune?  Well!" 

Placing  himself  in  a  large  chair,  the  young  Senator 
tilted  it  back  till  his  hard,  squarish  head  rested  against 
the  mantel,  and  he  felt  along  the  strings  almost  purpose 
lessly,  till  the  plaintive  air  came  forth  : 

"  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonnie  Boon  ! 

How  can  ye  bloom  so  fair  ? 
How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds, 
And  I  so  full  of  care  ? 


384  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Thou'lt  break  my  heart,  thou  bonnie  bird, 

That  sings  beside  thy  mate  ; 
For  so  I  sat,  and  so  I  sang, 

And  wist  not  of  my  fate." 

He  closed  his  eyes  on  the  strains,  and  a  thickening  at 
his  throat,  and  movement  of  his  broad,  athletic  chest,  as 
he  continued  the  air,  showed  that  he  was  inwardly  labor 
ing  with  some  strong  emotion. 

His  cousin,  the  Chief-justice,  made  a  signal  with  his 
hat,  and  one  by  one  the  sitters  stole  out  into  the  square 
noiselessly,  and  went  their  ways,  leaving  the  young  man 
playing  on,  with  the  negro  child  at  his  knee,  leaning  there 
as  if  to  spy  out  the  living  voice  in  his  violin. 

Other  children  came  to  the  door — white  children  from 
the  square,  black  children  from  the  garden — and  some 
ventured  a  little  way  in  to  hear  the  tender  wooing  of 
the  sympathetic  strings.  He  moved  his  bow  mechan 
ically,  but  the  music  sprang  forth  as  if  it  knew  its  sis 
ter,  Grief,  was  waiting  on  the  chords.  At  last  a  bolder 
child  than  the  rest  came  and  pushed  his  elbow  and 
said, 

"Papa!" 

"  My  boy,  my  dear  boy !"  the  fiddler  cried,  as  tears 
streamed  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  lifted  the  lad  to  his 
heart  and  kissed  him. 

Judge  Custis,  though  no  word  passed  upon  the  subject, 
saw  the  solitary  canker  at  the  Senator's  heart — his  wife's 
dead  form  in  the  old  Presbyterian  kirk-yard. 

It  was  soon  apparent  to  Judge  Custis,  from  this  and 
other  silent  things,  that  a  light  -  hearted,  affectionate, 
strong,  yet  womanly,  engine  of  energy  constituted  the 
young  Delaware  lawyer-politician.  Keen,  cunning,  im 
pulsive,  hopeful,  his  feet  provincial,  his  head  among  the 
birds,  he  combined  facility  and  earnestness  in  almost 
mercurial  relations  to  each  other,  and  the  Judge  saw  that 
these  must  constitute  a  remarkable  jury  lawyer. 


PEACH    BLUSH.  385 

His  face  was  shaven  smooth ;  his  throat  and  chin 
showed  an  early  tendency  to  flesh ;  the  poise  of  his  head 
and  thoughtful  darting  of  his  eyes  and  slight  aqualinity 
of  his  nose  indicated  one  who  loved  mental  action  and 
competition,  yet  drew  that  love  from  a  great,  healthy 
body  that  had  to  be  watched  lest  it  relapse  into  indo 
lence.  The  loss  of  his  wife  so  soon  after  marriage  had 
been  followed  by  nearly  complete  indifference  to  women, 
and  he  had  made  politics  his  only  consolation  and  mis 
tress,  harnessing  her  like  a  young  mare  with  his  old  road 
ster  of  the  law,  and  driving  them  together  in  the  slender 
confines  of  his  principality,  and  then  locking  the  law  up 
among  his  office  students  to  drive  politics  into  the  na 
tional  arena  at  Washington. 

"  You  require  to  be  very  neighborly,  Clayton,  in  a  small 
bailiwick  like  this?"  the  Judge  inquired,  as  they  strolled 
along  the  square  in  the  soft  evening. 

"  We  have  the  best  people  in  the  world  in  Delaware, 
friend  Custis  :  few  traders,  little  law,  scarcely  any  vio 
lence,  and  they  are  easy  to  please  ;  but  it  is  a  high  of 
fence  in  this  state  not  to  be  what  is  called  '  a  clever  man.' 
You  must  stop,  whatever  be  your  errand,  and  smile  and 
inquire  of  every  man  at  his  gate  for  every  individual  mem 
ber  of  his  household.  The  time  lost  in  such  kind,  trifling 
intercourse  is  in  the  aggregate  immense.  But,  Goy  !  I  do 
love  these  people." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  encourage  that  exaction." 

"Well,  I  do.  As  an  electioneerer,  I  can  get  away  with 
any  of  'em.  Goy  !  Why,  Jim  Whitecar,  Lord  bless  your 
dear  soul !" — this  addressed  to  a  thick-set,  sandy,  uncer 
tain-looking  man  who  was  about  retreating  into  the  Cap 
itol  Tavern — "  what  brings  you  to  town,  Jim  ?" 

"It's  a  free  country,  I  reckon,"  exclaimed  the  suspi 
cious-looking  man. 

"  Goy !  that's  so,  Jimmy.  We're  all  glad  to  see  you 
in  Dover  behaving  of  yourself,  Jim.  Now  don't  give  me 

25 


386  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

any  trouble  this  year,  friend  Jimmy.  Behave  yourself,  and 
be  an  honor  to  your  good  parents  that  I  think  so  much 
of.  Oblige  me,  now !" 

As  they  turned  to  cross  the  middle  of  the  square,  Clay 
ton  said  : 

"  I'll  have  him  at  that  whipping-post,  hugging  of  it,  one 
of  these  days." 

"What  is  he?" 

u  A  kidnapper  down  here  in  Sockum,  and  a  bad 
one  :  a  dangerous  fellow,  too.  I  hear  he  says  if  I  ever 
push  him  to  the  extremity  of  his  co-laborer,  Joe  John 
son —  whom  I  sent  to  the  post  and  then  saved  from 
cropping  —  that  he'll  kill  me.  Goy  !"  —  Mr.  Clayton 
looked  around  a  trifle  apprehensively — "  I'm  ready  for 
him." 

"Delaware  kidnapping  is  a  great  institution,"  Custis 
said. 

"  It  has  an  antiquity  and  extent  you  would  hardly  be 
lieve,  friend  Custis.  Long  before  our  independence,  in 
the  year  1760,  the  statutes  of  Delaware  had  to  provide 
against  it.  Our  laws  have  never  permitted  the  domestic 
slave-trade  with  other  states." 

The  little  place  seemed  to  have  a  good  society,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  young  girls  sitting  at  the  doors  or  walking 
in  the  evening  showed  something  of  the  florid  North  Eu 
rope  skins,  Batavian  eyes,  and  rotund  Dutch  or  Quaker 
figures. 

As  they  returned  to  the  public  square,  a  room  in  the 
tavern,  almost  brilliantly  lighted  for  that  day  of  candles, 
displayed  its  windows  to  the  gaze  of  Clayton,  who  ex 
claimed  : 

"  Goy  !  that  is  surely  John  Randel,  Junior." 

"  That  distinguished  engineer  ?"  observed  his  visitor, 
who  had  been  waiting  all  the  evening  to  broach  the  sub 
ject  of  his  errand.  "I  have  the  greatest  admiration  of 
him.  Shall  we  call  on  him  ?" 


PEACH    BLUSH.  387 

"  Why,  yes,  yes,"  answered  Clayton,  dubiously  ;  "  I'm 
not  afraid  of  him.  I — goy !  I  owe  him  nothing.  He  is^ 
such  a  litigious  fellow,  though;  so  persistent  with  it ;  bar 
ratry,  ckampetry,  mad  incorrigibility  :  he's  the  wildest  man 
of  genius  alive.  But  come  on  !" 

Knocking  at  a  door  on  the  second  floor,  a  sharp,  prompt 
reply  came  out : 

"  Come  !" 

A  middle-sized  man,  with  a  large  head  and  broad  shoul 
ders,  and  cloth  leggings,  buttoned  to  above  his  knee,  sat 
in  a  nearly  naked,  carpetless  room,  writing,  his  table  sur 
rounded  by  burning  wax  candles,  and  his  countenance 
was  proud  and  intense.  Mr.  Clayton  rushed  upon  him 
and  seized  his  hand  : 

"How  is  my  friend  Randel?  The  indefatigable  liti 
gant,  the  brilliant  engineer,  to  whom  ideas,  goy !  are 
like  persimmons  on  the  tree,  abundant,  but  seldom  ripe, 
and  only  good  when  frosted.  •  How  is  he  now  and  what 
is  he  at?" 

"Stand  there,"  spoke  the  engineer,  "and  look  at  me 
while  I  read  the  sentence  I  was  finishing  upon  John  Mid- 
dleton  Clayton  of  Delaware." 

"  Go  it,  Randel !  Now,  Custis,  he'll  put  a  wick  in  me 
and  just  set  me  afire.  Goy  !" 

"  *  It  is  the  curse  of  lawyers,'  "  the  unrelaxing  stranger 
read,  " '  to  let  their  judgment  for  hire,  from  early  manhood, 
to  easy  clients,  or  to  suppress  it  in  the  cringing  necessi 
ties  of  popular  politics :  hence  that  residue  and  fruit  of 
all  talents,  the  honest  conviction  of  a  man's  bravest  sa 
gacity,  perishes  in  lawyers'  souls  ere  half  their  powers 
are  fledged  :  they  become  the  registers  of  other  men,  they 
think  no  more  than  wax.'  " 

Here  Mr.  Randel  blew  out  one  of  the  candles.  The 
illustration  was  cogent.  Mr.  Clayton  lighted  it  again  with 
another  candle. 

"There's  method  in  his  madness,  Custis,"  he  said,  with 


388  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

a  wink.  "  Let  me  introduce  my  great  friend  to  you,  R n- 
ilel  ?" 

"  Stop  there,"  the  engineer  repeated,  sternly,  "  till  I  have 
read  my  sentence.  '  Seldom  it  is  that  a  lawyer  of  useful 
parts,  in  a  community  as  detached  and  pastoral  as  the 
State  of  Delaware,  has  a  cause  appealing  to  his  manli 
ness,  his  genius,  and  his  avarice,  like  this  of  John  Ranclel, 
Junior,  civil  engineer!  No  equal  public  work  will  prob 
ably  be  built  in  the  State  of  Delaware  during  the  lifetime 
of  the  said  Clayton.  No  fee  he  can  earn  in  his  native 
state  will  ever  have  been  the  reward  of  a  lawyer  there 
like  his  who  shall  be  successful  with  the  suit  of  John 
Randel,  Junior,  against  the  Canal  Company.  No  princi 
ple  is  better  worth  a  great  lawyer's  vindication  than  that 
these  corporations,  in  their  infancy,  shall  not  trample 
upon  the  private  rights  of  a  gentleman,  and  treat  his 
scholarship  and  services  like  the  labor  of  a  slave.'  " 

"Well  said  and  highly  'thought,"  interposed  Judge 
Custis. 

"'The  said  Clayton,'"  continued  John  Randel,  still 
reading,  " '  refuses  the  aid  of  his  abilities  to  a  stranger 
and  a  gentleman  inhospitably  treated  in  the  State  of  Del 
aware.'  " 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Clayton  ;  "  that  is  a  charge  against  me 
I  will  not  permit." 

"  '  The  said  Clayton,"  '  read  Randel,  inflexibly,  "  '  with 
the  possibilities  of  light,  riches,  and  honor  for  himself, 
and  justice  for  a  fellow-man,  chooses  cowardice,  medioc 
rity — and  darkness.  He  extinguishes  my  hopes  and 
his.'  " 

With  this,  Mr.  Randel,  by  a  singular  fanning  of  his 
hands  and  waft  of  his  breath,  put  out  all  the  candles  at 
once  and  left  the  whole  room  in  darkness. 

Judge  Custis  was  the  first  to  speak  after  this  extraordi 
nary  illustration  : 

"Clayton,  I  believe  he  has  a  good  case." 


PEACH    BLUSH.  389 

"  That  is  not  the  point  now,"  Mr.  Clayton  said,  with 
rising  spirit  and  emphasis.  "The  point  now  is, 'Am  I 
guilty  of  inhospitality  ?'  Goy  !  that  touches  me  as  a  Del- 
awarean,  and  is  a  high  offence  in  this  little  state.  It  is 
true  that  this  suitor  is  a  stranger.  He  comes  to  me  with 
an  introduction  from  my  brilliant  young  friend,  Mr.  Sew- 
ard,  of  New  York,  who  vouches  for  him.  But  the  corpo 
ration  he  menaces  is  also  entitled  to  hospitality:  it  is,  in 
the  main,  Philadelphia  capital.  Girard  himself,  that  fru 
gal  yet  useful  citizen,  is  one  of  its  promoters.  My  own 
state,  and  Maryland,  too,  have  interests  in  this  work.  Is 
it  the  part  of  hospitality  to  be  taking  advantage  of  our 
small  interposing  geography,  and  laying  by  the  heels, 
through  our  local  courts,  a  young,  struggling,  and,  indeed, 
national  undertaking?" 

"  Let  the  courts  of  your  state,  which  are  pure,  decide 
between  us,"  said  John  Randel,  Junior,  relighting  the  can 
dles  with  his  tinder-box. 

"No  lawyer  ought  to  refuse  the  trial  of  such  a  public 
cause  because  of  any  state  scruples,"  Judge  Custis  put 
in,  in  his  grandest  way.  "That  is  not  national  ;  it  is  not 
Whig,  Brother  Clayton."  The  Judge  here  gave  his  entire 
family  power  to  his  facial  energy,  and  expressed  the  Vir 
ginian  and  patrician  in  his  treatment  of  the  Delaware 
bourgeois  and  plebeian.  "  Granted  that  this  corporation 
is  young  and  untried  :  let  it  be  disciplined  in  time,  that  it 
may  avoid  more  expensive  mistakes  in  the  future.  No 
cause,  to  a  true  lawyer,  is  like  a  human  cause  ;  the  time 
may  come  when  the  talent  of  the  American  bar  will  be 
the  parasite  of  corporations  and  monopolists,  but  it  is 
too  early  for  that  degradation  for  you  and  me,  Senator 
Clayton.  The  rights  of  a  man  involve  all  progress  ; 
progress,  indeed,  is  for  man,  not  man  for  progress.  As 
a  son  of  Maryland,  if  he  came  helpless  and  penniless  tq 
me,  I  would  not  let  this  gentleman  be  sacrificed." 

"  If  I  were  a  rich  man,  Clayton  would  take  my  case," 


39°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  engineer  said  ;  "my  poverty  is  my  disqualification  in 
his  eyes." 

He  again  essayed,  in  a  dramatic  way,  to  fan  out  the 
candles,  but  his  breath  failed  him;  his  hands  became 
limp,  and  then  hastily  covered  his  eyes,  and  he  sank  to 
the  table  with  a  groan,  and  put  his  head  upon  i't  convul 
sively. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  uttered,  in  a  voice  touching  by  its 
distress,  "  oh  !  gentlemen,  professional  life — my  art — is, 
indeed,  a  tragedy." 

The  easy  sensibilities  of  Judge  Custis  were  at  once 
moved.  Senator  Clayton,  looking  from  one  to  the  other 
in  nervous  indecision,  seeing  Custis's  dewy  eyes,  and 
Randal's  proud  breaking  down,  was  himself  carried  away, 
and  shouted  : 

"  I  goy  !  This  is  a  conspiracy.  But,  Randel,  I'll  take 
your  case  ;  I  can't  see  a  man  cry.  Goy  !" 

As  they  all  arose  sympathetically  and  shook  hands,  a 
knock  came  on  the  door,  and  there  was  a  call  for  Mr. 
Clayton.  He  returned  in  a  few  minutes,  with  a  rather 
grim  countenance,  and  said  : 

"Randel,  I  have  just  declined  a  big  round  retaining- 
fee  to  defend  the  very  suit  your  tears  and  Brother  Custis's 
have  persuaded  me  to  prosecute.  But,  goy  !  a  tear  always 
robbed  me  of  a  dollar." 

"  This  sympathy  to-day  will  make  you  an  independent 
man  for  life,"  exclaimed  the  engineer. 

"  I  have  done  Milburn's  first  errand  right,"  Judge  Cus 
tis  thought;  "five  minutes' delay  would  have  been  fatal." 


GARTER-SNAKES.  39 1 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

GARTER-SNAKES. 

AT  Princess  Anne  Vesta  had  moved  her  husband  to 
Teackle  Hall,  and  he  occupied  her  father's  room  and 
seemed  to  be  growing  better,  though  the  doctor  said  that 
he  had  best  be  sent  to  the  hills  somewhere. 

The  free  woman,  Mary,  whom  Jimmy  Phcebus  sent  to 
Vesta,  had  arrived  very  opportunely,  and  took  Aunt  Hom 
iny's  place  in  the  kitchen,  where  all  the  children's  echoes 
were  gone,  the  poor  woman's  own  bereavement  thrilling 
the  ears  of  Virgie,  Roxy,  and  Vesta  herself;  but,  alas !  her 
tale  was  not  legal  testimony,  because  she  was  a  little  black. 

Jack  Wonnell  had  found  unexpected  favor  in  Meshach 
Milburn's  eyes,  and  was  appointed  to  sleep  in  the  store 
and  watch  it  j  and  there  Roxy  came  down  in*  the  twi 
lights,  and,  with  pity  more  than  affection,  heard  him 
weave  the  illusion  of  his  love  for  her,  willing  to  be  amused 
by  it,  because  it  was  so  sincere  with  him ;  for  Jack  was 
all  lover,  and  meek  and  artful,  bold  and  domestic,  soft 
and  outlawed,  as  the  houseless  Thomas  cat  that  makes 
highways  of  the  fences,  and  wooes  the  demurest  kitten 
forth  by  the  magic  of  his  purring. 

"  Roxy,"  said  Jack,  "  I'm  a-goin'  to  git  you  free,  gal,  fur 
I  'spect  Meshach  Milburn  will  give  me  a  pile  o'  money 
fur  a-watchin'  of  the  sto'.  Then  we'll  go  to  Canaday, 
whar,  I  hearn  tell,  color  ain't  no  pizen,  an'  we'll  love  like 
the  white  doves  an'  the  brown,  that  both  makes  the  same 
coo,  so  happy  they  is." 

"Jack,"  said  the  soft-eyed,  pitying  maid,  "you're  a  pore 
foolish  fellow,  but  I  like  to  hear  you  talk.  I  reckon  there 
is  no  harm  in  you.  Virgie  is  in  love,  too,  with  a  white 
man,  but  you  mustn't  breathe  it." 


39^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Never,"  said  Jack,  making  solemn  motions  with  his 
eyes,  and  cuddling  closer  in  dead  earnest  of  sympathy. 
"  Hope  I  may  die  !  Can't  tell,  to  save  my  life  !  Who-oop  ! 
Tell  me,  Roxy!" 

"  Pore  sister  Virgie,  she  was  made  to  love,  and,  though 
it's  hopeless,  I  think  she  loves  Mr.  Tilghman,  our  minis 
ter,  because  he  loved  Miss  Vesty  once,  and  Virgie  wor 
ships  Miss  Vesty  like  her  sister." 

*  *  =&  *  *  *  * 

Vesta  told  the  story  of  Mary,  the  free  woman,  to  her 
husband,  who  listened  closely  and  said  : 

"I  know  of  but  one  thing,  my  darling,  that  will  make 
such  ignorance  and  cruelty  fade  out  in  the  forests  of  this 
peninsula :  an  iron  road.  A  new  thing,  called  the  rail 
road-engine,  has  just  been  made  by  an  Englishman,  one 
George  Stephenson,  and  a  specimen  of  it  has  been  sent 
to  New  York,  where  I  have  had  it  examined.  The  er 
rand  your  father  went  to  do  for  me,  he  has  done  well.  I 
shall  senti  him  to  Annapolis  next,  to  get  a  charter  for  a 
railroad  up  this  peninsula  that  will  pass  inside  the  line 
of  Maryland,  and  penetrate  every  kidnapping  settlement 
hidden  there,  and  light,  intercourse,  and  law  shall  exter 
minate  such  barracoons  as  Johnson's." 

Vesta  was  glad  to  hear  her  father  praised  by  her  hus 
band,  and  hopes  rekindled  of  some  happier  family  reun 
ion,  when  she  should  feel  the  heartache  die  within  her 
that  now  raged  intermittently  during  her  vestal  honey 
moon.  A  letter  came  on  the  fourth  day  which  dashed 
these  hopes  to  the  ground,  and  it  was  as  follows  : 

"DORCHESTER  COUNTY,  MD.,  October — ,  1829. 

"  Darling  Niece, — Idol  of  my  heart,  let  me  begin  by  entreating  you 
to  take  a  conservative  course  when  I  break  the  sad  intelligence  to 
you  of  the  death  of  my  dear  sister,  Lucy,  at  Cambridge,  yesterday,  of 
the  heart  disease.  She  was  the  star  of  the  house  of  McLane.  She 
is  gone.  'Vengeance  is  mine,'  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  shall  take  a 
conservative  though  consistent  course  on  the  parties  who  have  inflict- 


GARTER-SNAKES,     ji  •  393 

ed  this  injury  upon  you,  my  dear  niece,  and  upon  your  calm  and  col 
lected,  if  stricken,  uncle. 

"  '  The  Lord  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,  his  wonders  to  perform,' 
and  his  humble  instruments  require  only  to  be  inflexible  and  conserv 
ative  to  do  all  things  well.  Be  assured  that  righteousness  shall  be 
done  upon  the  adversaries  of  our  family,  and  that  right  speedily.  My 
own  grief  is  composed  in  the  satisfaction  I  shall  take,  and  the  assurance 
that  your  sainted  mother  is  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling. 

"  The  financial  arrangements  of  my  dear  sister  were  of  the  most  con 
servative  and  high-toned  character,  as  was  to  have  been  expected  of  her. 

"  You  may  be  desirous,  my  outraged,  but,  I  hope,  still  spirited, 
idol,  to  hear  the  particulars  of  Lucy's  death.  She  did  not  reach 
Cambridge  till  near  midnight,  having  made  the  long  journey  from 
Princess  Anne  without  fitting  companions,  and,  in  the  excited  state 
of  her  feelings,  after  she  left  Vienna  in  the  evening,  a  depression  of 
the  spirits,  accompanied  by  a  fluttering  of  the  heart,  came  on,  and 
rapidly  increased,  and,  by  the  time  she  arrived  at  our  relatives',  she 
was  nearly  dead  with  nervous  apprehension  and  weakness.  On  see 
ing  me,  she  revived  sufficiently  to  make  her  will  in  the  most  sisterly 
and  conservative  manner. 

"  A  physician  was  procured,  but  he  pronounced  her  system  so  de 
bilitated  and  detoned  as  hardly  probable  to  outride  the  shock,  the 
nervous  centres  being  depressed  and  atrophy  setting  in. 

"  She  talked  incessantly  about  the  Entailed  Hat,  and  said  it  was  a 
permanent  shadow  and  weight  upon  your  heart,  and  made  me  prom 
ise  to  mash  it,  if  it  could  conservatively  be  done. 

"I  read  to  my  dear  sister  from  the  Book  of  Books,  and  tried  to 
compose  her  feelings,  but  she  broke  out  ever  and  anon,  '  Oh,  Brother 
Allan  !  to  think  I  have  raised  children  to  be  bought  and  sold,  and 
married  to  foresters  and  trash.'  She  was  deeply  sensitive  as  to 
what  would  be  said  about  it  in  Baltimore. 

"Just  before  she  died,  she  said, '  Do  not  bury  me  at  Princess  Anne, 
where  that  fiend  can  come  near  me  with  his  frightful  Hat !  Take 
me  to  Baltimore,  where  there  are  no  bog-ores,  nor  old  family  chattels, 
to  disturb  the  respectability  of  death.  Apologize  for  my  daughter, 
and  do  her  justice."1 

"  And  so  this  grand  woman  died,  in  the  confidence  of  a  blessed 
immortality,  leaving  us  to  vindicate  her  motives  and  continue  her 
conservative  course,  and  to  meet  at  her  funeral  next  Friday,  at  our 
church  in  Baltimore,  where  Rev.  John  Breckenridge  will  preach  the 
funeral  sermon  over  this  murdered  saint. 

"  With  conservative,  yet  proud,  grief, 

"  Affectionately,  your  uncle, 

"ALLAN  MC'LANE." 


394  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Oh,  sir!"  Vesta  exclaimed,  turning  blindly  towards 
her  husband  ;  "  mother  is  dead.  Where  can  I  turn  ?" 

"Where  but  to  me,  poor  soul !"  Milburn  replied, know 
ing  nothing  of  Mrs.  Custis's  late  feelings  against  him. 
"Your  father  shall  be  notified,  and  I  am  able  to  attend 
the  funeral  with  you." 

"  It  is  in  Baltimore,"  Vesta  sobbed. 

"Well,  honey,  there  I  am  ordered  by  the  doctor  to  go, 
and  get  above  the  line  of  malaria,  in  the  hills.  I  can 
make  the  effort  now." 

Her  grief  and  loneliness  deprived  her  of  the  will  to  re 
fuse  him.  Roxy  was  selected  to  be  her  mistress's  maid 
upon  the  journey,  and  William  Tilghman  and  Rhoda  Hol 
land  were  to  take  them  in  the  family  carriage  down  to 
Whitehaven  landing  for  the  evening  steamer. 

Jack  Wonnell,  in  officious  zeal  to  be  useful,  gathered 
flowers,  and  hung  around  Teackle  Hall  to  run  errands  ; 
and,  in  order  not  to  exasperate  Vesta's  husband,  appeared 
bareheaded  as  the  party  set  off,  Milburn's  hat-box  being 
one  of  the  articles  of  travel,  and  Milburn  vouchsafing 
these  words  to  Jack  : 

"  There  is  a  dollar  for  you,  Mr.  Wonnell.  I  rely  upon 
you  to  watch  my  old  store  and  conduct  yourself  like  a 
man." 

"I'll  do  it,"  answered  Jack,  grinning  and  blushing; 
"  hope  I  may  die  !  Good-bye,  Miss  Vesty.  Purty  Roxy, 
don't  you  forgit  me  'way  off  thair  in  Balt'mer.  I'll  teach 
Tom  to  sing  your  name  befo'  you  ever  see  me  agin." 

He  waved  his  arms,  with  real  tears  dimming  his  vision, 
and  Roxy  affected  to  shed  some  tears  also,  as  she  waved 
good-bye  to  Virgie,  whose  eyes  were  turned  with  wistful 
pain  upon  the  beautiful  face  of  her  mistress  receding 
down  the  vista.  Vesta  threw  her  a  kiss  and  reclined  her 
head  upon  her  husband's  shoulder. 

That  evening,  an  hour  before  the  carriage  was  to  re 
turn,  Virgie  and  the  free  woman,  Mary,  walked  together 


GARTER-SNAKES.  395 

down  to  Milburn's  store,  to  see  if  Jack  Wonnell  was  on 
the  watch.  As  they  trode  in  the  soft  grass  and  sand  un 
der  the  old  storehouse  they  saw  the  bell-crowned  hat — a 
new  one,  brought  from  the  ancient  stock  that  very  day — 
shining  glossily  on  Wonnell's  high,  eccentric  head,  as  he 
sat  in  the  hollow  window  of  the  old  storehouse  and  talked 
to  the  mocking-bird,  which  he  was  feeding  with  a  clam 
shell  full  of  boiled  potato  and  egg,  and  some  blue 
haws. 

"Tom,  say  '  Roxy,'  an'  I'll  give  ye  some,  Tommy! 
Now,  boy  !  ;  Roxy,  Roxy,  purty  Roxy  !  purty  Roxy  !  Poor 
ole  Jack!  poor  ole  Jack !"' 

The  bird  flew  around  Wonnell's  head,  biting  at  the  hat 
which  stood  in  such  elegant  irrelevance  to  the  remainder 
of  his  dress,  and  cried,  "  Meshach,  he  !  he  !  he  !  Vesty, 
she  !  Vesty,  Meshach !  Vesty,  Meshach !"  but  said  noth 
ing  the  village  vagrant  would  teach  it.  He  showed  the 
patience  idleness  can  well  afford,  and,  feeding  it  a  little, 
or  withholding  the  food  awhile,  continued  to  plead  and 
teach : 

"  *  Roxy,  Roxy,  purty  Roxy  !  Poor,  pore  Jack  !  pore 
Jack  !'  Now,  Tom,  say  '  Roxy,  Roxy,  pore  Jack  !'  " 

The  bird  flew  and  struck,  and  sang  a  little,  very  nig 
gardly,  and  so,  as  the  lights  in  the  west  sank  and  faded, 
the  shiftless  lover  continued  in  vain  to  seek  to  give  the 
bird  one  note  more  than  the  magician,  his  master,  had 
taught. 

The  stars  modestly  appeared  in  the  soft  heavens,  and 
Princess  Anne  gathered  its  roofs  together  like  a  camp  of 
camels  in  the  desert,  and,  with  an  occasional  bleat  or 
bark  or  human  sound,  seemed  dozing  out  the  soft  fall 
night,  absorbed,  perhaps,  in  the  spreading  news  of  Mrs. 
Custis's  death  and  Vesta's  wedding-journey,  that  had  to 
be  taken  at  last. 

"  Miss  Virgie,"  said  the  woman  Mary — ten  years  her 
senior,  but  comely  still — "  have  you  ever  loved  like  me  ? 


396  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Oh,  I  had  a  kind  husband,  and,  helpless  as  I  was,  I  tried 
to  love  once  more.  Maybe  it  was  a  sin." 

"  I  love  my  mistress  as  if  she  was  myself,"  Virgie  said  ; 
"  I  feel  as  if,  in  heaven,  before  we  came  here,  I  was  with 
her,  Mary  !  I  love  her  father,  too,  as  if  he  was  not  my 
master,  but  my  friend.  Oh,  how  I  love  them  all !  But 
what  can  I  do  to  show  my  love — poor  naked  slave  that  I 
am  ?  They  say  they  will  soon  set  me  free.  Mary,  how 
do  people  feel  when  they  are  free  ?" 

"  They  don't  appreciate  it,"  sighed  Mary.  "  They  go 
and  put  themselves  in  captivity  again,  like  selfish  things: 
they  falls  in  love." 

"  But  to  love  and  be  free  !"  Virgie  said,  her  bosom 
glowing  in  the  thought  till  her  rich  eyes  seemed  to  shed 
warmth  and  starlight  on  her  companion's  face ;  "  to  give 
your  own  free  love  to  some  one  and  feel  him  grateful  for 
it  :  what  a  gift  and  what  a  joy  is  that  !  He  might  be 
thankful  for  it,  and,  seeing  how  pure  it  was,  he  might  re 
spect  me." 

"Who  is  it, Virgie?"  Mary  said. 

"Whoever  would  love  me  like  a  white  girl !"  the  ardent 
slave  softly  exclaimed.  "  It  must  be  some  one  who  does 
not  despise  me.  I  hear  Miss  Vesta's  beau,  Master  Will 
iam,  read  the  beautiful  service,  with  his  sweet,  submissive 
face,  and  I  think  to  myself,  *  How  freely  he  might  have 
my  heart  to  comfort  his  if  he  would  take  it  like  a  gentle 
man  !'  I  would  be  his  slave  to  make  him  happy,  if  he 
could  love  me  purely,  like  my  mother !  Oh,  my  mother, 
whose  name  I  do  not  know !  where  is  the  tie  that  fastens 
me  to  heaven  ?  Did  my  father  love  me  ?" 

"  Pore  Jack  !  pore  Jack  !  Sing  '  Roxy,  Roxy,  Roxy,' 
Tom  !"  coaxed  Wonnell  above  to  the  sleepy  bird. 

"Whoever  was  your  father,  Virgie,  your  mother's  love 
for  you  was  pure.  God  makes  the  wickedest  love  their 
children,  because  he  is  the  Father  to  all  the  fatherless." 

"  Oh  !  could  my  own  father  have  brought  me  into  the 


GARTER-SNAKES.  397 

world  and  hated  me  ?"  Virgie  said.  "  They  say  I  am  al 
most  beautiful.  Will  he  who  gave  me  life  never  call  me 
his,  and  say, '  My  daughter,  come  to  my  respect,  rest  on 
my  heart,  and  take  my  name  '  ?" 

"  Poor  Virgie !"  sighed  Mary  ;  "  remember  we  are 
black  !  We  hardly  ever  have  fathers  :  they  is  for  white 
people." 

"  Dog  my  hide  !"  mumbled  Wonnell,  above,  "ef  a  bird 
ain't  a  perwerse  critter.  Purty  Roxy  won't  think  I'm 
smart  a  bit  ef  I  can't  make  Tom  say  '  Roxy,  Roxy,  Roxy  ! 
Pore  Jack !'  " 

"  I  am  almost  white,"  Virgie  continued  ;  "  I  want  to  be 
all  white.  Why  can't  I  be  so  ?  The  Lord  knows  my 
heart  is  white,  and  full  of  holy,  unselfish  love." 

"  Pore  chile !"  Mary  said ;  "  we  shall  all  be  washed 
and  made  white  in  the  Lamb's  blood,  Virgie.  That's 
where  your  soul  pints  you  to,  dear  young  lady.  I  know 
it  ain't  pride  and  rebellion  in  you :  it's  like  I'm  looking 
at  my  baby,  white  as  snow  to  me  and  God  now." 

"  Hush  !"  said  Virgie,  trembling,  "  what  voice  is  that  ?" 

There  was  an  old  willow-tree  in  a  recessed  spot  at  the 
end  of  the  store,  and  by  it  were  two  sheds  or  small  build 
ings,  now  disused,  into  one  of  which,  with  a  door  low  to 
the  ground,  Mary  drew  Virgie,  and  they  listened  to  a  low 
voice  saying, 

"  Dave,  air  your  pops  well  slugged  ?" 

"Yes,  Mars  Joe." 

"Allan  McLane  pays  fur  the  job?" 

"Yes,  Mars  Joe." 

"You  can't  mistake  him,  Dave.  No  shap  is  worn  like 
that  nowadays.  Look  only  fur  his  headpiece,  and  aim 
well !" 

"Yes,  Mars  Joe." 

"  Fur  me,"  continued  the  other  voice,  "  I'll  go  right  to 
the  tavern  an'  prove  an  alibi.  My  lay  is  to  take  the 
house  gal  that  old  Gripefist's  young  wife  thinks  so  much 


39^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

of.  I'll  snake  her  out  to-night.  She's  the  property  of 
Allan  McLane,  left  him  in  his  sister's  will.  They  found 
on  her  body  the  paper  giving  the  gal  to  the  dead  woman 
only  two  clays  before.  She's  Allan's  to-morrow,  but  to 
night  she's  mine !" 

A  sensual,  sucking,  chuckling  sound,  Like  a  kiss  made 
upon  the  back  of  his  own  hand,  followed  this  significant 
threat;  and  Mary,  placing  her  hand  over  the  sinking 
slave  girl's  mouth,  held  her  motionless. 

"  Tommy,  Tommy  !  sing  *  Roxy,  Roxy,  Roxy  !  Pore 
Jack !  Pore  Jack  !'  Sing,  Tommy,  sing  !" 

"  There"  whispered  the  white  man,  softly,  and  was 
gone. 

Mary  breathed  only  the  words  to  Virgie,  "Kidnap 
pers —  come!"  and  they  glided  from  the  old  tenement 
unobserved,  and  entered  the  copse  along  the  stream. 

"  Pore  Jack !  Pore  Jack !  His  leetle  Roxy's  gone 
away.  Pore  Jack  !  Roxy  !  Roxy !  Roxy  !"  the  mourner 
at  the  window  above  chattered  sleepily  to  the  nodding 
bird. 

The  negro  at  the  corner  of  the  old  warehouse,  half 
covered  by  the  willow's  shade,  peered  up  with  bloodshot- 
ten  eyes  to  distinguish  the  covering  on  the  bird-tamer's 
head. 

He  saw  Jack  Wonnell  sitting  backward  on  the  win 
dow-frame,  swaying  in  and  out,  as  he  lazily  tempted  the 
mocking-bird  to  sing,  and  once  the  bell-crown  hat,  so 
singular  to  view,  came  in  full  relief  against  the  gray  sky. 

"  It's  ole  Meshach,"  said  the  negro,  silently,  with  des 
perate  eyes.  "  I  hoped  it  wasn't.  Dar  is  de  hat,  sho  !" 

He  cocked  his  huge  horse-pistol,  and  took  aim  directly 
from  below. 

"  Pore  Jack  !  Pore  Jack  !  I  reckon  Roxy  won't  have 
pore  Jack,  caze  Tommy  won't  sing.  Sing,  Tommy,  little 
Roxy's  pet :  '  Pore  Jack  !  Pore—'  " 

The  great  horse-pistol  boomed  on  the  night,  and  in  the 


GARTER-SNAKES.  399 

smoke  the  negro  rushed  into  the  bush  and  sought  the 
fields. 

Down  from  his  seat  in  the  window-sill  the  witless  vil 
lager  came  backward,  all  bestrewn,  measuring  his  body 
in  the  sand,  where  he  lay,  silent  as  the  other  shadows, 
with  his  arms  extended  in  the  frenzy  of  death,  and  his 
mouth  wide  open  and  flowing  blood. 

Jack  Wonnell  had  paid  the  penalty  of  being  out  of  fashion . 

The  mocking-bird,  aroused  by  the  loud  report,  leaped 
into  the  empty  window-sill  to  seek  his  tutor,  and  set  up 
the  lesson  he  had  learned  too  late : 

"  Poor  Jack  !  Poor  Jack  !  Roxy  !  Roxy  !  Roxy !" 
came  screaming  on  the  night,  and  all  was  still. 

*  #  #  #  #  #  # 

William  Tilghman  was  driving  back  from  Whitehaven 
in  the  melancholy  thoughts  inspired  by  the  departure  of 
his  cousin,  whom  he  had  at  last  seen  go  into  the  great 
wilderness  of  the  world  the  passive  companion  of  her 
husband,  like  the  wife  of  Cain,  driven  forth  with  him, 
when  the  carriage  was  arrested  at  the  ancient  Presbyte 
rian  church — which  overlooked  Princess  Anne  from  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  little  river — by  a  woman  almost 
throwing  herself  under  the  wheels. 

"  Why,  Lord  sakes  !  it's  our  Virgie  !"  cried  Rhoda  Hol 
land. 

The  girl,  with  all  the  energy  of  dread,  sprang  into  the 
carriage  by  William  Tilghman's  side  and  threw  her  arms 
around  him  : 

"  Save  me  !     Save  me  !" 

"  What  ails  you,  Virgie  ?"  cried  the  young  man,  assur- 
ingly.  "You  are  in  no  danger,  child  !" 

"  I  am  sold,"  the  girl  gasped,  with  terror  on  her  tongue 
and  in  her  wild  eyeballs.  "  Miss  Vesty's  sold  me  to  her 
Uncle  Allan.  He's  sent  the  kidnappers  after  me.  They're 
yonder,  in  Princess  Anne.  Oh,  drive  me  to  the  North, 
to  the  swamps,  anywhere  but  there !" 


4°0  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  I  know  your  mistress  made  you  over  to  her  mother, 
Virgie,  for  a  precaution,  fearing  you  might  not  be  safe  in 
her  own  hands.  She  told  me  so,  and  asked  if  the  death 
of  her  mother  could  possibly  affect  you." 

"  Oh,  it  has  !"  the  girl  whispered.  "  Mary  knows  the 
kidnapper  that's  come  for  me.  He  is  the  same  that  stole 
Hominy  and  the  children.  He  kept  her  chained  on  an 
island.  He  says  he'll  have  me  to-night,  to  do  as  he 
pleases.  Master  McLane  lets  him  have  me  !" 

The  girl,  in  her  terror,  as  the  carnage  had  descended 
the  hill  already  and  crossed  the  Manokin,  seized  the 
reins  in  Tilghman's  hands  and  drew  them  with  such 
frenzy  that  the  horses,  as  they  came  to  Meshach  Mil- 
burn's  store,  were  pulled  into  the  open  area  before  it, 
where  something  in  their  surprise  or  lying  on  the  ground 
gave  them  immediate  fright,  and  they  dashed  at  a  gallop 
into  Front  Street,  the  wheels  passing  over  an  object  by 
the  old  storehouse  that  nearly  upset  the  carriage. 

The  street  they  took  for  their  run  crossed  a  small  arm 
of  the  Manokin,  and  led  up  to  a  gentleman's  gate ;  but 
before  this  brook  was  crossed  Tilghman,  an  experienced 
horseman  and  driver,  had  reined  the  flying  animals  into 
a  nearly  unoccupied  street,  called  Back  Alley,  parallel 
with  the  main  street  of  Princess  Anne,  but  hidden  from 
it  by  houses  and  gardens,  and  almost  in  a  moment  of 
time  the  whole  town  had  been  cleared,  with  hardly  a  per 
son  in  it  aware  of  such  a  vehicle  going  past. 

It  was  a  real  runaway,  but  Tilghman,  in  a  cool,  gentle 
voice,  like  a  brook's  music,  told  the  girls  to  sit  perfectly 
still,  as  they  had  a  clear,  level  road  ;  and,  seeing  that  he 
could  not  stop  the  animals  by  any  mere  exercise  of 
strength,  without  danger  to  his  harness,  he  waited  for 
their  power  to  wear  out,  or  their  fears  to  subside. 

Rhoda  Holland  was  ashamed  to  scream,  if  her  pride 
was  not  too  well  aroused  already  in  the  presence  of  the 
muscular  young  minister,  sitting  there  like  an  artillery 


GARTER-SNAKES.  40 1 

teamster  driving  into  battle,  and  his  nostrils  and  jaws 
delineated  in  the  gray  air,  expressed  almost  the  joy  he 
had  long  put  by  of  following  the  hounds  in  the  autumn 
fox-hunts,  where  Judge  Custis  said  he  had  been  the  per 
fect  pattern  of  a  rider. 

As  for  Virgie,  she  felt  no  fear  of  wild  horses,  since  they 
were  leaving  behind  the  bloody  hunters  of  men  and 
women,  and  she  almost  wished  it  was  herself  alone,  dash 
ing  at  that  frightful  pace  to  destruction,  until  the  young 
man,  mindful,  perhaps,  of  his  mistress,  torn  from  his  sight 
to  inhabit  another's  arms,  and  feeling  that  this  poor  quad 
roon  was  dear  as  a  sister  to  Vesta's  heart,  bent  down  in 
the  midst  of  his  apprehensions  and  kissed  the  slave  girl 
pityingly. 

Then,  with  an  instant's  greater  torrent  of  tears,  a  sense 
of  rest  and  man's  respect  fell  upon  Virgie's  soul,  and  she 
paid  no  heed  to  time  or  dangers  till  the  carriage  came  to 
a  stop  in  the  deep  forest  sands  several  miles  east  of  Prin 
cess  Anne. 

"William,"  said  Rhoda  Holland,  "what  air  we  to  do 
to  save  Virgie  ?  Uncle  Meshach's  gone.  Jedge  Custis 
is  nobody  knows  whar,  now.  This  yer  Allan  McLane, 
Aunt  Vesty  says,  is  dreffle  snifflin'  an'  severe.  I  think  it's 
a  conspliracy  to  steal  Virgie  when  they's  all  away.  Misc 
Somers  would  take  keer  of  her,  but  I'm  afraid  she'd  tell 
somebody." 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  saw  and  heard  truly?"  the 
minister  said  to  Virgie. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  saw  the  same  man  at  Mr.  Milburn's  the 
day  he  was  taken  sick.  He  looked  at  me  a  low,  familiar 
look,  and  muttered  something  evil.  Mary  knew  him  too 
well.  Oh,  do  not  take  me  back  to  Princess  Anne.  I 
will  never  go  there  again." 

"  It  may  be  true,"  Tilghman  reflected.  "  It  probably 
is  true.  Vesta  has  no  faith  in  Allan  McLane.  She  says 
he  makes  money  in  the  negro  trade,  with  all  his  religious 

26 


4O2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

formality.  He  is  the  trustee  already  of  Mrs.  Custis's  es 
tate  ;  no  cloubt,  the  administrator  by  will.  He  may  have 
sent  Joe  Johnson  to  kidnap  Virgie,  under  color  of  his 
right,  and  Johnson  would  abuse  anybody.  Vesta  will 
never  forgive  us  if  we  let  Virgie  go  to  him." 

"  But  I  am  a  slave,"  Virgie  sobbed.  "  Oh,  my  Lord  ! 
to  think  I  am  not  Miss  Vesta's,  but  a  strange  man's, 
slave.  How  could  she  give  me  away !" 

"  It  was  an  error  of  judgment,"  Tilghman  replied. 
"  She  could  not  anticipate  her  mother's  immediate  death. 
Yet  there,  where  she  thought  you  safest,  you  were  most 
in  peril." 

They  had  now  crossed  the  Dividing  creek  into  Worces 
ter  County,  and  halted  to  cool  the  horses  off  at  the  same 
old  spring,  under  the  gum-tree,  where  Meshach  Milburn 
stopped,  the  evening  he  went  to  the  Furnace  village. 

"William,"  Rhoda  Holland  spoke,  "if  Virgie  is 
McLane's  slave  you  can't  keep  him  from  a-takin'  her.* 
She  can't  go  back  to  Prencess  Anne  at  all." 

"  I  don't  mean  that  she  shall,  Rhoda.  I  know  you  are 
a  brave  woman,  and  we  will  drive  her  to-night  to  Snow 
Hill,  and  leave  her  there  with  a  nurse,  a  free  woman, 
once  belonging  to  my  family,  and  this  nurse  has  a  hus 
band  who  is  said  to  be  a  conductor  on  what  is  called  the 
Underground  Road  to  the  free  states." 

"Lord  sakes!  a  Abolitionist?" 

"I  hope  so,"  Tilghman  said.  "I  know  Vesta  wants 
to  set  this  girl  free,  and  there  is  no  way  to  do  it,  and  re 
spect  her  womanhood,  but  by  giving  her  a  wild  beast's 
chance  to  run." 

"  My,  my  !  And  you  a  minister  of  the  Gospil,  Will 
iam  !" 

"Yes,  of  the  Gospel  that  tells  me  how  to  be  a  neighbor 
to  my  neighbor."  The  young  man's  eyes  flashed.  "I 
never  felt  so  humiliated  for  my  cloth  and  for  my  country 
as  no\v.  To  think  how  many  men  preach  the  Gospel  of 


GARTER-SNAKES.  403 

God  all  their  lives  long,  and  have  never  set  a  living  soul 
free.  I  will  do  one  such  Christian  felony,  by  the  help  of 
Christ." 

As  he  spoke,  the  sound  of  a  corn-stalk  fiddle,  and  of 
foresters'  naked  feet  dancing  on  the  floor  of  the  old  Mil- 
burn  cabin,  came  crooning  out  in  the  night. 

In  another  hour  they  were  at  the  Furnace  village,  its 
blast  gone  out,  its  lines  of  huts  deserted,  no  human  soul 
to  be  seen;  and  the  mill-pond,  lying  like  a  parchment  un 
der  the  funereal  cypress-trees,  seemed  stained  with  the 
blood  of  the  bog-ores  that  oozed  upward  from  the  depths 
like  the  corpse  of  murdered  Enterprise,  suffocated  in  Me- 
shach  Milburn's  foreclosure. 

A  sense  of  desolation  filled  them  all ;  but  what  was  it. 
in  either  of  the  white  twain,  to  the  bursting  ties  of  that 
lovely  quadroon,  raised  like  a  lily  in  the  household  heat 
of  kindness  and  the  breath  of  purity,  to  be  cast  forth  like 
a  witch,  on  a  moment's  information,  and  consigned  to  the 
ponds  and  night-damps? 

The  horses  toiled  through  the  sand  till  an  open  coun 
try  of  farms  gave  better  roads,  and  at  ten  o'clock  at  night 
they  crossed  the  Pocomoke  at  Snow  Hill,  and  stopped  at 
a  gate  before  a  neat,  whitewashed,  one-story  house,  with 
a  large  stack-chimney  over  the  centre,  and  two  doors  and 
a  single  window  in  the  front.  It  stood  in  a  short  street 
leading  to  the  river,  whose  splutter-docks  and  reeds  were 
seen  near  by  among  the  masts  of  vessels  and  the  mounds 
of  sawdust. 

Virgie  kissed  Rhoda  good-night,  and  descended  with 
Mr.  Tilghman,  who  opened  a  gate,  and,  going  up  some 
steps,  knocked  at  a  vine -environed  door.  A  window 
opened  and  there  was  a  parley,  and  the  door  soon  after 
wards  unclosed  softly  and  admitted  them. 

"  Oh,  may  God  let  you  know  some  night  the  pure  bed 
and  sleep  you  have  brought  me  to !"  Virgie  whispered. 
"  God  bless  you  for  the  kiss  you  gave  me,  my  dear  white 


404  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

playmate,  that  you  are  not  ashamed  of!  Oh,  my  heart  is 
bursting  :  what  can  I  say?" 

"The  people  here  will  hide  you,  or  slip  you  forward 
to-morrow  night,"  the  young  minister  said.  "Here  is 
money,  Virgie,  to  pay  your  way.  You  can  write,  and 
write  to  your  young  mistress  wherever  you  go." 

"Tell  her,"  said  the  runaway  girl,  "that  I  loved  her 
clearly.  Oh,  dear  old  Teackle  Hall !  shall  I  ever  see  you 
again  ?  William,  I  shall  get  my  freedom,  or  die  on  the 
road  to  it." 

"That  is  the  spirit,"  the  minister  said;  "we  will  buy 
it  for  you  if  we  can,  but  get  it  for  yourself  if  you  can  do  it." 

He  kissed  her  again,  with  the  instinct  of  a  father  to  a 
child,  and  hastened  to  his  horses  and  the  hotel. 

As  Tilghman  and  Rhoda,  at  the  earliest  dawn,  started 
for  Princess  Anne,  the  young  girl  suddenly  turned  and 
kissed  her  minister. 

"  Thar !"  she  said,  "  I  think  you  just  looked  magnifi- 
cens  last  night,  sittin'  behine  them  critters,  like  Death  on 
the  plale  horse,  an'  lovin'  Aunt  Vesty,  though  she's  gone 
away  an'  quit  you,  enough  to  fight  for  her  pore,  bright- 
skinned  gal.  I  wish  somebody  would  love  me  like  that !" 

"  So  you  could  quit  him,  too,  Rhoda?" 

"  Well,  William,  I  likes  beaus  that's  couragelis  !  You're 
splendid  a-preachin',  but  I  like  you  better  drivin'  and 
showin'  your  excitemins." 

"  You  are  a  beautiful  girl,"  the  clergyman  said  ;  "  sup 
pose  you  try  to  like  me  better." 

The  great  questioo,  being  thus  opened,  was  not  dis 
posed  of  when  they  reached  Princess  Anne,  and  quietly 
stabled  the  horses. 


HONEYMOON.  405 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

HONEYMOON. 

MEANWHILE  the  steamer  was  taking  Vesta  and  her 
husband  across  the  Chesapeake  Bay  in  the  night — that 
greatest,  gentlest  indentation  in  the  coast  of  the  United 
States  ;  at  once  river  and  sound,  fiord  and  sea,  smooth 
as  the  mill-pond,  and  full  of  life  as  the  nutritious  milk  of 
the  mother,  and  on  whose  breast  a  brood  of  rivers  lay 
and  suckled  without  rivalry  —  the  long  Susquehanna, 
James,  and  Potomac  j  the  short,  thick  Choptank,  Ches 
ter,  and  Patapsco  ;  and,  to  the  flying  wild-swan,  its  arbor- 
age  looked  like  a  vast  pine-tree,  with  boughs  of  snow, 
climbing  two  hundred  miles  from  its  roots  in  the  land  of 
corn  and  cotton  into  the  golden  cloud  of  Northern  grain 
and  hay. 

Upon  one  broken  horn  of  this  fruitful  bay  hung  Balti 
more,  like  an  eagle's  nest  upon  the  pine,  seizing  the  point 
of  indentation  that  brought  it  nearest  to  the  fertile  upland 
and  the  valley  outlets  of  the  North  and  West,  where  the 
toil-loving  Germans  burnished  their  farms  with  women's 
hands,  and  sent  their  long-bowed  teams  to  market  on  as 
many  turnpikes  as  the  Chesapeake  had  rivers. 

At  morning  Vesta  looked  upon  the  fleet  of  little  sail 
lying  in  the  basin  of  the  city,  among  larger  ships  and  arks 
and  barges,  and  saw  Federal  Hill's  red  clay  rising  a  hun 
dred  feet  above  the  piers,  and  the  spotless  monument  to 
Washington  resting  its  base  as  high  above  the  tide,  on  a 
nearly  naked  bluff.  The  rich  sunrise  fell  on  the  streaked 
flag  of  the  republic  at  the  mast  on  Fort  McHenry,  and 
the  garrison  band  was  playing  the  very  anthem  that  law 
yer  Key  had  written  in  the  elation  of  victory,  though  a 


406  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

prisoner  in  the  enemy's  hands.  Alas  !  how  many  a  pris 
oner  in  the,  enemy's  hands  was  doing  tribute  to  that  flag 
from  cotton-field  and  rice-swamp,  tobacco  land  and  corn- 
row,  pouring  the  poetry  of  his  loyalty  and  toil  to  the  very 
emblem  of  his  degradation  ! 

Vesta  heard,  with  both  satisfaction  and  sorrow,  at  Bar- 
num's  Hotel  that  her  husband  was  too  ill  to  attend  the 
funeral,  and  must  keep  his  room  and  fire ;  she  needed 
his  comfort  and  devotion  in  her  sorrow,  but  upon  her 
dead  mother's  bier  seemed  to  stand  the  injunction  against 
that  fateful  hat  he  had  brought  with  him  ;  and  yet  she 
pitied  him  that  he  must  stay  alone,  unknown,  unre 
lated,  chattering  with  the  chill  or  burning  without  com 
plaint. 

"  God  send  you  sympathy  from  the  angels  like  you,  my 
darling!"  Milburn  said.  "I  know  what  it  is  to  lose  a 
mother." 

Escorts  in  plenty  waited  on  Vesta,  but  she  wished  she 
could  find  some  kinsman  of  her  husband,  if  ever  so  poor, 
to  take  his  arm  to  the  church  and  burial-ground ;  and  at 
the  news  that  her  uncle  Allan  McLane  had  not  arrived, 
and  would  not,  probably,  now  be  present,  she  felt  another 
blending  of  relief  and  apprehension,  because  her  husband 
might  not  to-day  be  exasperated  by  him,  yet  his  relations 
to  her  mother's  property  would  still  remain  unknown, — 
and  Vesta  feared  for  Virgie. 

In  the  same  impulse  which  had  made  her  retain  Teackle 
Hall,  to  secure  it  against  her  father's  careless  business 
methods,  she  had  made  Virgie  over  to  her  mother,  to 
place  her,  apparently,  farther  from  danger,  never  suppos 
ing  that  in  those  prudent  hands  the  enemy  might  insinu 
ate  ;  but  Death,  the  deathless  enemy,  was  filching  every 
where,  and  though  she  could  not  see  why  Virgie  could  be 
persecuted,  Vesta  now  wished  she  had  set  her  free. 

The  girl  belonged  to  her  mother's  estate  :  suppose 
Allan  McLane  was  the  administrator  of  it  ?  Suppose,  in- 


HONEYMOON.  407 

deed,  he  was  the  heir  ?  Vesta's  heart  fell,  as  she  consid 
ered  that  a  woman  had  best  let  business  alone. 

The  young  bride-mourner  was  an  object  of  mingled  ad 
miration  and  sympathy  as  she  leaned  on  the  arm  of  a 
kinsman  and  entered  the  Presbyterian  kirk.  She  was 
considered  one  of  the  great  beauties  of  Maryland,  and 
the  young  Robert  Breckenriclge,  fresh  from  Kentucky,  on 
a  visit  to  his  brother,  the  pastor,  thought  he  had  never 
seen  Vesta's  equal  even  in  Kentucky ;  and,  as  he  gazed 
through  her  mourning  veil,  the  pastor's  Delaware  wife 
heard  him  whisper,  "  Divinity  itself!" 

The  clear  olive  skin,  eyes  of  gray  twilight,  eyebrows 
like  midnight's  own  arches,  and  luxuriant  hair,  were 
touched  by  grief  as  if  a  goddess  suffered ;  and,  in  her 
deep  mourning  robes,  Vesta  seemed  a  monarch's  daugh 
ter  about  to  pass  through  some  convent  to  her  saint 
hood. 

She  had  the  height  to  give  dignity  to  this  beauty,  and 
the  grace  to  lift  pathos  above  weakness. 

The  minister's  musical  tones  were  wrought  to  conso 
nance  with  this  noble  human  model,  and  he  spoke  of 
that  ideal  motherhood  which,  to  every  child  at  the  bier, 
seems  real  as  the  dripping  bucket  at  the  fairy's  well — of 
mother's  love,  trials,  weakness,  and  immortality ;  of  the 
absence  of  her  sympathy  making  the  first  great  bereave 
ment  in  life's  progress ;  of  her  nature  abiding  in  us  and 
her  spirit  hovering  over,  while  we  live. 

Painted  in  the  soft  hues  of  personal  experience,  pre 
scribed  to  her  needs  with  a  physician's  art,  doing  all  that 
funeral  talk  can  do  to  raise  the  final  tears  from  among 
the  heartstrings  and  pour  them  in  oblation  upon  the 
corpse,  the  pastor's  consolation  had  the  effect  of  some 
mesmeric  hand  that  weakens  our  systems  while  it  subli 
mates  our  feelings,  and  Vesta's  female  nature  was  almost 
broken  down. 

Where  could  she  lean  for  the  close  sympathy  befitting 


408  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

such  grief?  Her  father  was  not  here,  and  she  had  none 
but  her  husband — the  husband  of  less  than  a  week,  but 
still  the  nearest  to  her  need. 

On  him  she  allowed  herself  to  rest  that  solemn  even 
ing  after  her  mother's  body  had  sought  the  ground.  He 
was  well  again,  for  the  time. 

For  the  first  time  she  was  alone  with  him,  and,  as  the 
shadows  narrowed  their  chamber,  and  they  sat  with  no 
other  light  than  a  little  wood  smouldering  in  the  grate, 
he  came  to  her  and  began  to  talk  of  childhood  and  his 
own  mother,  of  the  little  sorrows  his  mother  had  shared 
with  him,  of  domestic  disagreements  and  happy  love- 
making  anew ;  how  men  feel  when  the  partner  of  life  is 
taken  away,  and  children  know  not  the  meaning  of  Death, 
that  has  done  so  awful  a  thing  upon  the  inoffensive  one ; 
but  above  all  is  shining,  Meshach  said,  the  star  of  moth 
erhood,  faintly  lighting  our  way,  mellowing  our  souls,  and 
basking  on  the  waters. 

As  he  continued,  and  she  could  not  see  him,  but  only 
hear  the  plaintiveness  of  his  voice,  it  became  comfortable 
to  hear  him  speak,  and  she  grew  more  passive,  a  sense  of 
resignation  fell  upon  her  heart,  and  of  gratitude  to  him 
that  could  divine  her  loss  so  touchingly ;  and,  like  a  child, 
she  rested  upon  his  side,  upon  his  knee,  and  in  his  arms 
at  last.  Not  fond  nor  yet  infatuated,  but  subsiding  and 
consenting,  accepting  her  destiny  like  a  myriad  of  women 
that  are  neither  oppressed  nor  tender,  but  with  reluctance, 
yield,  she  passed  out  of  grief  to  wifedom,  like  one  tired 
and  in  a  dream. 

Visits  of  consolation  were  made  by  a  few  old  friends 
for  a  clay  or  two  succeeding.  The  Rev.  Henry  Lyon 
Davis,  late  president  of  the  college  at  Annapolis,  came, 
bringing  his  handsome  boy  of  twelve,  Master  Harry  Win 
ter  Davis.  The  attorney-general  of  Maryland,  Mr.  Roger 
Taney,  came  with  Mr.  George  Brown,  the  banker.  Com 
modore  Decatur's  widow  sent  a  mourning  token,  and  the 


HONEYMOON.  409 

Honorable  William  Wirt  brought  Mr.  Robert  Smith,  once 
the  secretary  of  state  at  Washington. 

These  and  others,  looking  at  Meshach  Milburn  a  little 
oddly,  found  him,  on  acquaintance,  a  man  of  sense  ;  but 
the  McLanes  who  called  were  either  supercilious  or  stu 
diously  avoided  the  groom. 

An  invitation  came  from  Arlington  House  to  Vesta,  to 
bring  Mr.  Milburn  there ;  and,  as  they  proceeded  out  the 
Washington  road  in  a  private  carriage,  they  observed  Mr. 
.Ross  Winans's  friction-wheel  car,  with  nearly  forty  people 
in  it,  making  its  trial  trip  behind  a  horse  at  a  gallop.  At 
the  Relay  House,  where  the  horses  on  the  railroad  were 
changed,  Milburn  remarked,  gazing  up  the  Patapsco  val 
ley  : 

"  My  wife,  we  are  here  at  the  birth  of  this  little  iron 
highway.  If  our  vision  was  great  enough,  we  might  see 
the  mighty  things  that  may  happen  upon  it :  servile  in 
surrection,  sectional  war,  great  armies  riding  to  great  bat 
tles,  thousands  of  emigrants  drawn  to  the  West.  We 
shall  die,  but  generations  after  us  this  road  will  grow  and 
continue,  like  a  vein  of  iron,  whose  length  and  uses  no 
man  can  measure." 

The  road  to  Washington  was  in  places  good,  and  often 
turned  in  among  the  pines.  At  Riverdale  they  saw  the 
deer  of  Mr.  George  Calvert,  a  descendant  of  one  of  the 
Lords  Baltimore,  browsing  in  his  park,  and  his  great  four- 
in-hand  carriage  was  going  in  the  lodge-gates  from  a  state 
visit  to  the  Custises.  Passing  direct  to  Georgetown  from 
Bladensburg,  they  encountered  General  Jackson,  taking 
his  evening  ride  on  horseback,  and  saw  the  chasm  of  the 
new  canal  being  dug  along  the  Potomac,  and  then,  cross 
ing  Mason's  ferry,  they  were  set  down  at  Arlington  House 
an  hour  after  dark. 

The  hospitable,  harmless  proprietor  welcomed  them 
into  the  huge  edifice,  half  temple,  half  barn,  among  his  elab 
orate  daubs  of  pictures,  and  furniture  and  relics  of  Cus- 


4IO  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

tis  and  Washingtoriian  times.  He  was  nearly  fifty  years 
of  age,  of  Indian  features,  but  rather  weak  face,  like  one 
whose  only  substantiality  was  in  his  ancestors,  and  Vesta, 
placing  him  beside  her  husband,  reflected  that  a  similar 
inbreeding  had  produced  a  similarity  in  the  two  men,  both 
of  a  sallow  and  bilious  attenuation  ;  but  Milburn,  beside 
her  kinsman  Custis,  was  like  a  bold  wolf  beside  a  vacant- 
visaged  sheep. 

Yet  these  men  liked  each  other  immediately,  Milburn's 
intelligence  and  money,  and  real  reverence  for  the  great 
man  who  had  adopted  Mr.  Custis,  giving  him  admittance 
to  the  latter's  fancy. 

They  strolled  through  those  beautiful  woods,  one  clay 
to  become  a  grove  of  sepulture  for  an  army  of  dead, 
while  Vesta,  in  the  dwelling,  talked  with  her  cousins,  and 
with  the  graceful  Lieutenant  Lee,  who  was  courting  Mary 
Custis. 

It  was  a  happy  domestic  life,  and  in  the  host's  veins 
ran  the  blood  of  the  Calverts,  though  not  of  the  legiti 
mate  line. 

It  was  suggested  to  go  to  the  Capitol,  and  Mr.  Milburn, 
growing  daily  better  in  the  hill  region,  went  also,  and 
wore  his  steeple  hat,  greatly  to  the  edification  of  Mr. 
Custis,  who  revelled  in  such  antiquities.  Vesta  heard 
the  ladies  whispering,  when  they  returned,  that  a  parcel 
of  boys  and  negroes  had  followed  the  hat,  laughing  and 
jeering,  and  had  finally  driven  the  party  to  their  carriage. 
This,  and  her  husband's  impatience  to  return  to  his  busi 
ness,  hastened  their  departure  from  Arlington. 

They  took  the  steamer  down  the  Potomac,  and,  as  they 
came  off  the  mouth  of  St.  Mary's  River,  Milburn  donned 
his  Raleigh's  hat  again,  and  stood  on  deck,  looking  at 
the  lights  about  the  old  Priest's  House,  where  the  capital 
of  Lord  Baltimore  lay,  a  naked  plain  and  a  few  starveling 
mementoes,  within  the  bight  of  a  sandy  point  that  faced 
the  archipelago  of  the  Eastern  Shore. 


THE    ORDEAL.  411 

"  My  hat,"  said  Milburn  to  himself,  "is  old  as  yonder 
town,  and  better  preserved.  The  Calverts  and  Milburns 
have  married  into  Mrs.  Washington's  kin.  Does  my 
wife  love  me?" 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE    ORDEAL. 

WHEN  Levin  Dennis  awoke  in  the  bottom  of  the  old 
wagon  it  was  being  rapidly  driven,  and  Van  Dorn's  voice 
from  the  driver's  seat  was  heard  to  say,  without  its  usual 
lisp  and  Spanish  interjection  : 

"  Whitecar,  is  your  brother  at  Dover  sure  of  his  game  ?" 

"  Cock  sure,  Cap'n.  Got  'em  tree'cl !  Best  domestic 
stock  in  the  town  thar,  an'  the  purtiest  yaller  gals :  I  know 
that  suits  you,  Cap'n  !" 

"  Have  they  arms  ?" 

"Not  a  trigger.  We  trap  'em  at  one  of  their  'festi- 
bals.'  No,  sir,  niggers  won't  scrimmage." 

"  We  assemble  at  Devil  Jim  Clark's,"  said  Van  Dorn, 
and  passed  by  with  a  crack  of  his  whip. 

Levin,  whom  some  friendly  hand  had  wrapped  in  a 
bearskin  coat — he  had  seen  one  like  it  upon  Van  Dorn — 
next  heard  the  slaver  speak  to  another  party  he  had 
overtaken : 

"  Melson  ?" 

«  Ay  yi !" 

"  Milman  ?" 

"Ah!  boy." 

"  You  get  your  orders  at  Devil  Jim  Clark's  !" 

The  stars  were  out,  yet  the  night  was  rich  in  large, 
fleecy  clouds,  as  if  heaven  were  hurrying  onward  too. 
Levin  lay  on  his  back,  jostled  by  the  rough  wagon,  but, 
being  perfectly  sober  now,  he  was  more  reasoning  and 


4J2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

courageous,  and  his  new-found  love  impelled  him  to  self- 
preservation.  He  might  have  rolled  out  of  the  vehicle 
and  into  the  woods,  and  at  least  saved  himself  from  com 
mitting  further  crime,  but  how  would  he  see  Hulda  any 
more— Hulda,  in  danger,  perhaps  ?  Thus,  even  to  igno 
rance,  love  brings  understanding,  and  Levin  began  to  ask 
himself  the  cause  of  his  own  misery.  He  knew  it  was 
liquor,  yet  what  made  him  drink  if  not  a  disposition  too 
easily  led?  Even  now  he  was  under  almost  voluntary 
subjection  to  the  bandit  in  the  wagon,  whose  voice  he 
heard  blandly  command  again  to  some  pair  he  had  caught 
up  to  : 

"  Tinclel  ?" 

"  Tackle  'em,  Cap'n  Van  !     Tackle  'em  !" 

"You  are  not  to  be  in  peril  to-night,  so  keep  your  spir 
its.  I  expect  you  to  look  out  for  the  cords,  gags,  and 
fastenings  generally  !" 

"  Tackle  'em,  Captin  ;  oh,  tackle  'em  !" 

"  You  and  Buck  Ransom  there — " 

"  Politely,  Captain  ;  politely,  sir !"  exclaimed  an  insin 
uating  voice  from  a  negro  rider. 

"  Are  to  meet  us  all  at  Devil  Jim's !" 

"  Tackle  'em,  Captin  !" 

"Politely,  Captain!" 

As  Van  Dorn  urged  his  way  to  the  head  of  the  line, 
Levin  looked  out  silently  upon  the  flat  country  of  forest 
and  a  few  poor  farms,  drained  imperfectly  by  some  ditches 
of  the  Choptank.  He  supposed  it  might  be  almost  mid 
night,  from  the  position  of  those  brilliant  constellations 
which  shone  down  equally  upon  his  mother  and  himself— 
she  in  her  innocence  and  he  in  his  anxiety — and  shone, 
also,  perhaps,  upon  his  poor  father's  grave  in  isle  or 
ocean. 

Within  an  hour  blood  was  to  be  shed,  no  doubt,  and 
rapine  done,  and  he  knew  not  the  road  to  escape  by  nor 
the  hole  to  hide  in.  Yet  in  that  hour  he  had  to  make  his 


THE   ORDEAL.  413 

choice, — to  fight  for  liberty,  or  go  to  the  jail,  the  whipping 
post,  or,  perhaps,  the  gallows. 

Levin  considered  ruefully  his  vagrant  past,  and  how 
little  could  be  said  in  extenuation  of  him  in  a  court  of 
justice,  except  by  his  mother's  faith,  which  was  no  more 
evidence  than  a  negro's  oath. 

Once  it  arose  in  his  mind  to  surprise  Van  Dorn,  over 
come  him,  cast  him  out  in  a  ditch,  and  drive  to  some  one 
of  the  little  farmhouses  and  rest,  till  day  should  give  him 
his  whereabouts  and  remedy. 

Levin  was  not  a  coward,  and  his  muscles  were  hard, 
and  his  feet  could  cling  to  a  smooth  plank  like  a  bird's 
to  a  bough ;  but  his  heart  relented  to  the  fierce,  soft  man 
so  unsuspectingly  sitting  with  his  back  to  him,  when  Levin 
reflected  that  he  must,  perhaps,  put  an  end  to  Van  Dorn's 
life  with  his  sailor's  knife,  if  they  grappled  at  all,  and  this 
clay  expiring  Van  Dorn  had  paid  a  debt  for  him  to  the 
widow  whose  son  was  next  overtaken,  and  who  cried,  for- 
wardly,  without  being  addressed  : 

"  Van  Dorn,  what  you  goin'  to  give  me  if  I  git  a  nig 
ger  ?" 

"  This !"  said  Van  Dorn,  without  a  pause,  reaching  the 
boy  a  measured  blow  with  his  whip-lash  on  the  shoulder 
that  made  him  literally  fall  from  the  mule  and  grovel  with 
pain. 

"Discipline  is  what  your  mother  failed  to  give  you, 
reprbbo.  Manners  I  shall  teach  you.  Fall  in  the  rear  !" 

Owen  Daw  crawled  desperately  on  his  mule  and  obeyed 
without  parley,  but  his  audacity  soon  recovered  enough  to 
force  his  animal  up  to  the  wagon  tail  and  open  whispered 
communications  with  Levin  there. 

Nothing  had  passed  them  for  hours  that  Levin  had 
seen,  when  suddenly  a  horseman  at  a  rapid  lope  stopped 
the  wagon,  and  a  hoarse  negro  voice  muttered  : 

"  How  de  do,  now?     See  me  !  see  me  !" 

"  Derrick  Molleston  ?"  spoke  Van  Dorn. 


414  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  See  me  !  see  me  !" 

"  Get  down  and  ride  with  me.    Levin,  are  you  awake  ?" 

"Yes,  Captain." 

"Take  this  man's  horse  and  ride  him.  John  Sorden  is 
ahead.  It  will  stretch  your  chilled  limbs." 

"May  I  go  with  him  ?"  asked  Owen  Daw,  in  his  Celtic 
accent,  quite  cringing  now. 

"  Not  unless  he  wants  you." 

"  Come,  then,"  Levin  obligingly  said. 

While  the  two  youths  were  still  lingering  by  the  wagon 
they  heard  these  words  : 

"  Have  you  arranged  everything  with  Whitecar  and 
Devil  Jim?" 

"  See  me !  see  me  !" — apparently  meaning,  "Rely  upon 
me." 

"  Is  Greenley  ready  to  make  the  diversion  if  any  attack 
be  made  upon  us?" 

"  See  me  !  see  me  !  His  gallus  is  up  and  he'd  burn  de 
world." 

"  This  Lawyer  Clayton  ?" 

"  See  me  !  see  me  !  He  gives  a  big  party,  Aunt  Braner 
tole  me.  A  judge  is  dar  from  Prencess  Anne,  an'  liquor 
a-plenty.  See  me  !  see  me  !" 

"  The  white  people  absolutely  gone  from  Cowgill 
House  ?" 

"  See  me  !  It's  nigh  half  a  mile  outen  de  town.  Dar's 
forty  tousand  dollars,  if  dar's  a  cent,  at  clat  festibal :  gals 
more'n  half  white,  men  dat  can  read  an'  preach  :  de  cream 
of  Kent  County.  See  me  !  see  me  !" 

"And  not  a  suspicion  of  our  coming?" 

"  See  me  !  O  see  me  !"  hoarsely  said  the  negro  ;  "  in- 
nercent  as  de  unborn.  To-night's  deir  las'  night !" 

Levin  trembled  as  these  merciless  words  reached  his 
ears,  but  Owen  Daw  seemed  to  forget  his  affront  at  the 
tidings,  and  chuckled  to  Levin  as  they  trotted  away: 

"Bet  you  I  git  a  better  nigger  nor  you!" 


THE   ORDEAL.  415 

"  Oh,  shame,  Owen  Daw  !  Your  mother  was  saved  to 
day  from  bein'  turned  out  of  doors  by  my  pity.  Think 
of  robbin'  these  niggers  of  their  freedom  !  What  have 
they  done  ?" 

"Been  niggers!"  exclaimed  Owen  Daw.  "That's 
enough !" 

"  What  will  you  do,  Owen,  to  help  your  poor  mother  ?" 

"  Wait  till  I  git  big  enough,  bedad,  an'  kill  ole  Jake  Can 
non  for  this  day's  work." 

As  they  rode  on  they  came  to  the  man  called  Sorden, 
riding  as  the  guide  to  the  invading  column,  a  person  of 
more  genteel  address  than  any  beneath  Van  Dorn,  and 
young,  pliable,  and  frolicking. 

"  My  skin  !"  he  said.  "  Now,  boys,  Van  Dorn  oughtn't 
had  to  brung  you.  You're  too  sniptious  for  this  rough 
work.  I  love  the  Captain  better  than  I  ever  loved  A 
male,  but  he  oughtn't  to  spile  boys." 

"Van  Dorn  told  me  to  come,"  Owen  Daw  cried.  "I'm 
big  enough  to  buck  a  nigger." 

u  I  love  him  better  than  I  ever  loved  A  male,"  said 
Sorden,  apologetically.  "  Who  is  t'other  young  offend 
er?" 

"I'm  a  stranger  to  your  parts,"  Levin  replied.  "Mrs. 
Cannon  made  me  come.  I  didn't  want  to." 

"  Are  you  afear'd  ?" 

"Yes,"  Levin  said. 

"Well,  I  love  the  Captain  better  than  I  ever  loved  A 
male.  But  boys  is  boys,  and  I  hate  to  see  'em  spiled. 
If  you  was  nigger  boys  I  wouldn't  keer  a  cent ;  but 
white's  iny  color,  and  I  don't  want  to  trade  in  it." 

They  halted  at  a  small,  sharp-gabled  brick  house,  of 
one  story  and  a  kitchen  and  garret,  at  the  left  of  the 
road,  to  which  the  corner  of  a  piece  of  oak  and  hickory 
woods  came  up  shelteringly,  while  in  the  rear  several 
small  barns  and  cribs  enclosed  the  triangle  of  a  field.  A 
door  in  the  middle,  towards  Maryland,  seemed  very  high- 


41 6  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

silled,  and  low  grated  windows  were  at  the  cellar  on  each 
side  of  the  steps. 

The  place  had  a  suspicious  appearance,  and  a  pack  of 
hounds  in  full  cry  rushed  from  the  kitchen,  and,  while  in 
the  act  of  leaping  the  stile  and  palings,  were  arrested  al 
most  in  mid  air  by  a  chuffy  voice  crying  from  within  : 

"  Hya  !     Down  !     Spitch  !" 

The  whole  pack  meekly  sneaked  back  to  the  house, 
whining  low,  and  a  few  blows  of  a  switch  and  short  howls 
within  completed  the  excitement. 

"What  place  is  this?"  asked  Owen  Daw. 

"Devil  Jim  Clark's,"  said  Sorclen. 

The  dwelling  stood  about  forty  yards  back  from  the 
road,  drawing  nearly  into  the  cover  of  the  woods,  and  its 
little  yard  was  made  cavernous  by  thick-planted  paper- 
mulberry  and  maple  trees,  while  a  line  of  cherry-trees  and 
an  old  pole-well  rose  along  the  road  and  hedge.  As  they 
rode  to  the  rear  of  the  house  a  little  dormer  window,  like 
a  snail,  crawled  low  along  the  roof,  and  a  light  was  shining 
from  it. 

"Devil  Jim's  business-office,"  nodded  Sorclen. 

"  What's  his  business  ?"  asked  Levin,  freshly. 

"Niggers.  He  keeps  'em  up  thar  between  the  garret 
and  the  roof — sometimes  in  the  cellar." 

"  Does  he  want  a  business-office  for  that  ?" 

"  He's  a  contractor  on  the  canawl,  too,  Jim  is — raises 
race-horses,  farms  it,  gambles  a  little,  but  nigger-runnin'  is 
his  best  game.  My  skin  !  Yer  comes  Captain  Van  Dorn. 
I  love  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

"Van  Dorn,"  spoke  a  voice  from  the  house,  "remem 
ber  my  family  is  particular.  Your  men  must  go  to  the 
barn.  Come  in  !" 

"  Spiced  brandy  at  the  barn  !" — a  quiet  remark  from 
somewhere — was  sufficient  to  lead  the  herd  away,  and, 
giving  the  order  to  "  water  and  fodder,"  Van  Dorn  passed 
into  the  kitchen,  thence  through  a  bedroom  to  the  chief 


THE    ORDEAL.  417 

room  of  the  house,  and  up  a  small  winding-stair  to  a  scrap 
of  hallway  or  corridor  hardly  two  feet  wide. 

The  man  who  led  pointed  to  a  trap  above  one  end  of 
this  hall,  and  exclaimed,  "  Niggers  there  !  family  yonder !" 
—the  last  reference  to  a  door  closing  the  little  passage. 

He  then  opened  a  wicket  at  the  side  of  the  hall,  admit 
ting  Van  Dorn  to  an  exceedingly  small  closet  or  garret 
room,  barely  large  enough  for  the  men  to  sit,  and  lighted 
by  a  lamp  in  the  little  dormer  window  seen  from  below. 

"  Drink  !"  said  the  man,  uncorking  a  bottle  of  cham 
pagne;  "I  had  it  ready  for  you." 

He  poured  the  foaming  wine  and  set  the  bottle  on  a 
sort  of  secretary  or  desk,  and  then  looked  anxiety  and 
avarice  together  out  of  his  liquid  black  eyes  and  broad, 
heavy  face. 

"  Buena  su&rte,  senor  T  Van  Dorn  lisped,  as  they  drank 
together. 

"Hya!  spitch !"  nervously  muttered  Clark,  cutting  his 
own  top-boots  with  a  clog-whip.  "  I  wish  I  was  out  of 
the  business  :  the  risk  is  too  great.  My  wife  is  religious 
— praying,  mebbe,  now,  in  there.  My  daughters  is  at  the 
seminaries,  spendin'  money  like  the  Canawl  Company  on 
the  lawyers.  Nothin'  pays  like  nigger-stealin',  but  it's 
beneath  you  and  me,  Van  Dorn." 

"A  la  verdad  !  This  is  my  last  incursion,  Don  Clark. 
Pleasure  has  kept  me  poor  for  life.  To-day  I  did  a  little 
sacrifice,  and  it  grows  upon  me." 

"  If  they  should  ketch  me  and  set  me  in  the  pillory, 
Van  Dorn,  for  what  you  do  to-night,  hya  !  spitch  !" — he 
slashed  his  knees — "  it  would  break  Mrs.  Clark's  heart." 

"I  want  this  money  to-night,"  said  Van  Dorn,  "  to 
make  two  young  people  happy.  They  shall  take  my 
portion,  and  take  me  with  them  out  of  the  plains  of 
Puckem." 

"Oh,  it  is  nervous  business"  —  Clark's  eyes  of  rich 
jelly  made  the  pallor  on  his  large  face  like  a  winding. 
27 


41 8  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

sheet — "  hya  !  spitch !  The  Quakers  are  a-watchiu'  me. 
Ole  Zekiel  Jinkins  over  yer,  ole  Warner  Mifflin  down  to 
the  mill,  these  durned  Hunns  at  the  Wildcat — they  look 
me  through  every  time  they  ketch  me  on  the  road.  But 
the  canawl  contract  don't  pay  like  niggers ;  my  folks 
must  hold  their  heads  up  in  the  world ;  Sam  Ogg  won't 
let  me  keep  out  of  temptation." 

"Do  you  fear  me,  Devil  Jim?" 

"  Hya  !  spitch  !  No.  If  all  in  the  trade  was  like  you, 
I  could  sleep  in  trust.  If  you  go  out  of  it,  so  will  I." 

"Then  to-night, penitente !  we  make  our  few  thousand 
and  quit.  Give  up  your  cards  and  I  my  doncellitas^  and 
we  can  at  least  live." 

They  shook  hands  and  drank  another  glass,  and  then 
Van  Dorn  said : 

"  Send  up  to  me,  hermano  f  the  lad  who  will  reply  to 
the  name  of  Levin.  With  him  I  would  speak  while  you 
give  the  directions  !  Poor  coward  !"  Van  Dorn  said,  after 
his  host  had  descended  the  stairs,  "he  can  never  be  less 
than  a  thief  with  that  irksomeness  under  such  fair  com 
petence." 

At  that  moment  a  beautiful  maid  or  woman,  in  her 
white  night-robe,  stood  in  the  little  doorway,  with  eyes  so 
like  the  richness  of  his  just  gone  that  it  must  have  been 
his  daughter.  She  fled  as  she  recognized  a  stranger, 
and  Van  Dorn  pursued  till  a  door  was  closed  in  his  face. 

"Poor  fool !"  he  said,  sinking  into  his  chair  again  ;  "I 
will  never  be  more  honest  than  any  woman  can  make 
me !" 

As  Levin  entered  the  little  hallway  Van  Dorn  smiled  : 

"  Here  is  a  glass  of  real  wine  to  inspire  you,  junto." 

"No,  Captain.     I  would  rather  die  than  drink  it." 

"Do  you  repent  coming  with  me?" 

"Oh,  bitterly,  Captain.  I  don't  want  to  steal  poor, 
helpless  people  if  they  is  black." 

"Now,  listen,  lad  !" — Van  Dorn's  face  ceased  to  blush 


THE    ORDEAL.  419 

and  the  coarse  look  came  into  his  blue  eyes  —  "this 
night's  excursion  is  for  your  profit.  I  like  your  gentle 
inclination  for  me,  and  the  good  acts  you  have  solicited 
from  me,  and  the  confidence  you  have  shown  me  as  to 
your  love  for  pretty  Hulda.  Join  me  in  this  work  will 
ingly,  and  I  will  give  her,  for  your  marriage  settlement, 
all  my  share." 

"  Never."  Levin  exclaimed. 

Van  Dorn  drew  his  knife  and  rose  to  his  feet 

"Levin,"  he  lisped,  "I  promised  Patty  Cannon  that  I 
would  bring  you  back  spotted  with  crime  or  dead.  Now 
choose  which  it  shall  be." 

"To  die,  then,"  cried  Levin,  with  one  hand  drawing 
the  long,  silken  hair  from  his  eyes  and  with  the  other 
drawing  his  own  knife  ;  "but  I  will  fight  for  my  life." 

Van  Dorn  seized  Levin's  wrist  in  a  vise-like  grip,  but, 
as  he  did  so,  threw  his  own  knife  upon  the  floor, 

"  Oh !  huerfano,  waif,"  Van  Dorn  murmured,  while  his 
blush  returned,  "  take  heed  thou  ever  sayest  '  No '  with 
courage  like  that,  when  cowardice  or  weak  acquiescence 
would  extort  thy  'Yes.'  This  moment,  if  thou  hadst  con 
sented,  thy  heart  would  be  on  my  knife,  young  Levin  !" 

He  drew  the  knife  from  Levin's  hand  and  put  it  in  his 
ragged  coat  again,  and  set  the  boy  on  his  knee  as  if  he 
had  been  a  little  child. 

"  Oh,  God  be  thanked  I  did  not  kill  you,  sir,"  sobbed 
Levin,  his  tears  quickly  following  his  courage ;  "  twice  I 
have  thought  of  cloin'  it  to-day." 

"  I  never  would  have  put  you  to  that  test,  my  poor  lad, 
but  that  I  saw  your  conscience  at  work  all  this  day  under 
the  stimulation  of  virtuous  love.  Think  nothing  of  me. 
Build  your  own  character  upon  some  good  example,  and, 
sweet  as  life  is,  fight  for  it  on  the  very  frontiers  of  your 
character.  Die  young,  but  surrender  only  when  you  are 
old." 

"  Captain,"  Levin  said,  "  how  kin  I  git  character  ?    My 


420  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

father  is  dead.  Everybody  twists  me  around  his  fin 
gers." 

"Then  think  of  some  plain,  strong,  faithful  man  you 
may  know  and  refer  every  act  of  your  character  to  him. 
Ask  yourself  what  he  would  do  in  your  predicament,  then 
go  and  do  the  same." 

"I  do  know  such  a  man,"  Levin  said,  in  another  mo 
ment  ;  "  it  is  Jimmy  Phoebus,  my  poor,  beautiful  mother's 
beau." 

"J£l  rayo  ha  caido!"*  Van  Dorn  spoke,  low  and  calm; 
"yes,  Levin,  any  man  worthy  of  your  mother  will  do." 

"  Captain,  turn  back  with  me  !     Is  it  too  late  ?" 

"Too  late  these  many  years,  young senor.  I  shall  lead 
the  war  on  Africa  to-night  again  at  Cowgill  House." 

He  rose  and  finished  the  wine. 

"  Clark  shall  give  you  a  horse,  Levin.  I  present  it  to 
you.  Ride  on  with  Sorden  at  the  lead,  and  a  mile  from 
here,  at  Camden  town,  take  your  own  way.  Good-night !" 

Taking  a  single  look  at  the  miserable  band  of  whites 
and  blacks  collected  in  the  barn,  and  revealed  by  a  lan 
tern's  light  in  the  excitement  of  drink  and  avarice,  or  the 
familiarity  of  fear  and  vice — some  inspecting  gags  of  corn 
cob  and  bucks  of  hickory,  others  trimming  clubs  of  black 
jack  with  the  roots  attached;  others  loading  their  horse- 
pistols  and  greasing  the  dagger-slides  thereon ;  some 
whetting  their  hog-killing  knives  upon  harness,  others 
cutting  rope  and  cord  into  the  lengths  to  bind  men's  feet 
— Levin  was  set  on  the  loping  horse  he  had  been  already 
riding,  by  Clark,  the  host,  and  soon  met  Sorden  on  the 
road. 

"Where  is  Van  Dorn  ?"  Sorden  asked;  "I  love  him  as 
I  never  loved  A  male." 

"He  sends  me  to  Camden  of  an  errand,"  Levin  an 
swered  ;  "is  it  far  ?" 

"About  a  mile.  Three  miles,  then,  to  Dover.  My 
skin  !  how  fresh  your  critter  is  ;  ain't  it  Dirck  Molleston's  ? 


THE    ORDEAL.  421 

I  thought  so.  Then  he'll  be  wantin'  to  turn  in  at  Coop 
er's  Corners." 

"  Does  Derrick  live  there  ?" 

"  Yes.  That's  whar  he  holds  the  Forks  of  both  roads 
from  below,  and  watches  the  law  in  Dover.  I  hope  Van 
Dorn  will  git  away  with  the  loot  and  not  git  ketched,  fur 
I  love  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

Levin's  horse,  at  his  easy  gait,  soon  left  Sorden  far  be 
hind,  and  the  strange  events  of  the  night,  and  his  wonder 
what  to  do  next,  kept  Levin's  brain  whirling  till  he  saw 
the  form  of  a  few  houses  rise  among  the  trees,  and  a  line 
of  arborage  indicate  a  main  road  from  north  to  south. 
The  scent  as  of  cold,  wide  waters  and  marshes  filled  the 
night. 

"  Here  is  Camden,"  Levin  thought ;  "  where  shall  I  go  ? 
If  I  turn  south  I  shall  get  no  bed  nor  food  all  night,  and 
be  picked  up  in  the  mornin'  fur  a  kidnapper.  I  can't  go 
back.  The  big  river  or  the  ocean,  I  reckon,  is  before  me. 
What  would  Jimmy  Phoebus  do?" 

He  held  the  animal  in  as  he  asked  this  question,  and 
paused  at  the  crossing  of  the  great  State  roacl. 

The  idea  slowly  spread  upon  his  whole  existence  that 
James  Phoebus  would,  in  Levin's  place,  ride  instantly  to 
Dover  and  give  the  alarm. 

Levin  tried  to  construct  Phoebus  in  a  mood  to  give 
some  other  advice,  but,  as  the  resolute  pungy  captain's 
form  seemed  to  bestride  the  young  man's  mind,  it  rose 
more  and  more  stalwart,  and  appeared  to  lead  towards 
Dover,  where  so  many  poor  souls,  in  the  joys  of  inter 
course  and  freedom,  were  like  little  birds  unconscious  of 
the  hawks  above  them,  and  no  man  in  the  world  but  Levin 
Dennis  could  save  them  from  death  or  bondage. 

Would  James  Phoebus,  with  his  lion  nature,  ever  hesi 
tate  in  the  duty  of  a  citizen  and  a  Christian  under  such 
circumstances,  or  forgive  another  man  for  withholding  in 
formation  that  might  be  life  and  liberty  and  mercy? 


422  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Yet  there  was  Van  Dorn  to  be  betrayed.  What  would 
Van  Dorn  do  in  Levin's  place  ? 

The  words  of  Van  Dorn,  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  old, 
spoke  aloud  in  Levin's  echoing  consciousness :  "  Think 
nothing  of  me.  Refer  every  act  to  some  faithful  man 
and  go  and  do  the  same  !" 

Levin  looked  up,  and  the  very  clouds,  now  swollen  dark 
in  spite  of  starshine,  seemed  hurrying  on  Dover.  The 
night-birds  were  crying  "  Mercy  !  mercy  !"  the  lizards  and 
tree-frogs  seemed  to  cross  each  other's  voices,  piping 
"Time!  time!  time!" 

"Huldy  /"  Levin  whispered,  and  let  the  reins  fall  loose, 
and  his  animal  darted  through  Camden  town  to  the 
north. 

He  had  gone  by  the  small  frame  houses,  the  Quaker 
meeting,  the  stores,  the  outskirt  residences,  when  sudden 
ly  his  horse  turned  out  to  pass  a  large,  dark  object  in  the 
road  ahead,  and  a  horseman  rode  right  across  Levin's 
course,  forcing  his  animal  back  on  its  haunches. 

"  High  doings,  friend  !"  a  man's  voice  raspingly  spoke  ; 
"  I'm  concerned  for  thee  !" 

"Git  out  of  my  way  or  I'll  stab  you  !"  Levin  cried,  be 
tween  his  new  ardor  to  do  his  duty  and  the  idea  that  he 
had  already  been  intercepted  by  Patty  Cannon's  band. 

"  Ha,  friend  !  I'm  less  concerned  for  myself  than  thee. 
Thou  wilt  not  stab  a  citizen  of  Camden  town  at  his  own 
door?" 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  let  me  go,  then  !"  Levin  pleaded. 
"  The  kidnappers  is  coming  to  Dover  in  a  few  minutes. 
I  want  to  tell  Lawyer  Clayton!" 

Immediately  the  other  person,  a  tall,  lean  man,  wheeled 
and  dashed  after  the  dark  object  ahead,  which  Levin,  fol 
lowing  also  hard,  found  to  be  a  large  covered  wagon — 
something  between  the  dearborn  or  farmer's  and  the  fam 
ily  carriage. 

"Bill,"  the  Quaker  called  to   the  driver,  "spare   not 


THE   ORDEAL.  423 

thy  whip  till  Dover  be  well  past.  Here  is  one  who  says 
kidnappers  are  raiding  even  the  capital  of  Delaware. 
I'm  concerned  for  thee  !" 

The  driver  began  to  whip  his  horses  into  a  gallop,  and 
cries,  as  of  several  persons,  came  out  of  the  close-cur 
tained  vehicle. 

"  What's  in  there  ?"  Levin  asked  the  Quaker,  who  had 
rejoined  him  ;  "  niggers?" 

"No,  friend,"  the  Quaker  crisply  answered,  "only 
Christians." 

They  crossed  a  mill-stream,  and  soon  afterwards  a 
smaller  run,  without  speaking,  and  came  to  a  little  log- 
and-frame  cabin  in  a  fork  of  the  road,  where  Levin's  horse 
tried  to  run  in. 

"  Ha,  friend !  Is  it  not  Derrick  Molleston's  loper  thee 
has — the  same  that  he  gets  from  Devil  Jim  Clark  ?  What 
art  thou,  then  ?  I  feel  concerned  for  thee." 

"  A  Christian,  too,  I  hope,"  answered  Levin,  forcing  his 
nag  up  the  road. 

"Then  thee  is  better  than  a  youth  in  this  dwelling  we 
next  pass,"  the  Quaker  said,  pointing  to  a  brick  house  on 
the  left;  "for  there  lived  a  judge  whose  son  bucked  a 
poor  negro  fiddler  in  his  father's  cellar,  and  delivered  him 
to  Derrick  Molleston  to  be  sold  in  slavery.  I  hear  the 
poor  man  tells  it  in  his  distant  house  of  bondage." 

"  What's  this  ?"  Levin  inquired,  seeing  a  strange  struct 
ure  of  beams  on  a  cape  or  swell  to  the  right,  in  sight  of 
the  dark  forms  of  a  town  on  the  next  crest  beyond. 

"  A  gallows,"  said  the  Quaker,  "on  which  a  horse-thief 
will  be  hanged  to-morrow.  To  steal  a  horse  is  death ;  to 
steal  a  fellow-man  is  nothing." 

As  he  spoke,  the  mysterious  carriage  turned  down  a 
cross  street  of  Dover  and  stole  into  the  obscurity  of  the 
town. 

"Ha!  ha!"  exclaimed  the  Quaker;  "if  Joe  Johnson 
had  not  stopped  to  feed  at  Devil  Jim's,  he  might  have 


424  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

overtaken  my  brother's  wagon  full  of  escaping  slaves.  I 
tell  ihee,  friend,  because  I'm  scarce  concerned  for  thee 
now." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

COWGILL     HOUSE. 

LONG  after  midnight,  Dover  was  in  bed,  except  at  one 
large  house  on  the  Capitol  green,  where  light  shone 
through  the  chinks  and  cracks  of  curtains  and  shutters, 
and  some  watch-dog,  perhaps,  ran  along  curiously  to  see 
why. 

The  stars  and  clouds  in  the  somewhat  troubled  sky 
looked  clown  through  the  leafless  trees  upon  the  pretty 
town  and  St.  Jones's  Creek  circling  past  it,  and  hardly 
noticed  a  long  band  of  creeping  men  and  animals  steal 
up  from  the  Meeting  House  branch,  past  the  tannery  and 
the  academy,  and  plunge  into  the  back  streets  of  the 
place,  avoiding  the  public  square. 

One  file  turned  down  to  the  creek  and  crossed  it,  to 
return  farther  above,  cutting  off  all  escape  by  the  north 
ern  road,  while  a  second  file  slipped  silently  through  and 
around  the  compact  little  hamlet  and  waited  for  the  oth 
er  to  arrive,  when  both  encompassed  an  old  brick  dwell 
ing  standing  back  from  the  roadside  in  a  green  and  ven 
erable  yard,  nearly  half  a  mile  from  the  settled  parts  of 
Dover. 

This  house  was  brilliantly  lighted,  and  the  rose-bushes 
and  shade  trees  were  all  defined  as  they  stood  above  the 
swells  of  green  verdure  and  the  ornamental  paths  and 
flower-beds. 

One  majestic  tulip-tree  extended  its  long  branches 
nearly  to  the  portal  of  the  quaint  dwelling,  and  a  luxuri 
ant  growth  of  ivy,  starting  between  the  cellar  windows, 
clambered  to  the  corniced  carpentry  of  the  eaves,  and 


COWGILL    HOUSE.  425 

made  almost  solid  panels  of  vine  of  the  spaces  between 
the  four  large,  keystoned  windows  in  two  stories,  which 
stood  to  the  right  of  the  broad,  dumpy  door. 

This  door,  at  the  top  of  a  flight  of  steps,  was  placed  so 
near  the  gable  angle  of  the  house  that  it  gave  the  impres 
sion  of  but  one  wing  of  a  mansion  originally  designed  to 
be  twice  its  length  and  size. 

Between  this  gable — which  faced  the  road,  and  had  four 
lines  of  windows  in  it,  besides  a  basement  row— and  the 
back  or  town  door,  as  described,  was  one  squarish,  roomy 
window,  out  of  relation  to  all  the  rest,  and  perhaps  twelve 
feet  above  the  ground.  This,  as  might  be  guessed,  was 
on  the  landing  of  the  stairs  within  ;  for  the  great  door 
and  front  of  the  residence  being  at  the  opposite  side,  the 
whole  of  the  space  at  the  town  ward  gable,  to  the  width 
of  seventeen  feet,  was  a  noble  hall  about  forty  feet  long, 
lofty,  and  with  pilasters  in  architectural  style,  and  lighted 
by  two  great  windows  in  the  gable  and  the  square  window 
on  the  stairway. 

The  stairway  itself  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  work  and 
proportion,  rising  from  the  floor  in  ten  railed  steps  to  the 
landing  at  the  square  window,  where  a  space  several  feet 
square  commanded  both  the  great  front  door  and  the 
windows  in  the  gable,  and  also  the  yard  behind ;  thence, 
at  right  angles,  the  flight  of  steps  rose  along  the  back 
wall  to  a  second  landing  over  the  dumpy  back-door,  and, 
by  a  third  leap,  returned  at  right  angles,  to  the  floor  above, 
making  what  is  called  the  well  of  the  stairway  to  be  ex 
ceedingly  spacious,  and  it  opened  to  the  garret  floor. 

No  doubt  this  cooL  great  hall  was  designed  to  be  the 
centre  of  a  large  mansion,  yet  it  had  lost  nothing  in  agree- 
ableness  by  becoming,  instead,  the  largest  room  in  the 
house,  receiving  abundant  daylight,  and  it  was  large 
enough  for  either  a  feast  or  public  worship,  and  such  was 
its  frequent  use. 

Built  by  a  tyrannical,  eccentric  man  at  the  beginning 


426  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

of  the  century,  it  had  passed  through  several  families  un 
til  a  Quaker  named  Cowgill,  who  afterwards  became  a 
Methodist,  and  who  held  no  slaves  and  was  kind  to  black 
people,  made  it  his  property,  and  superintended  a  tannery 
and  mill  within  sight  of  it. 

He  was  frequently  absent  for  weeks,  especially  in  the 
bilious  autumn  season,  and  allowed  his  domestics  to  as 
semble  their  friends  and  the  general  race,  at  odd  times, 
in  the  great  hallway,  for  such  rational  enjoyments  as  they 
might  select. 

In  truth,  the  owner  of  the  house  desired  it  to  get  amore 
cheerful  reputation  •  for  the  negroes,  in  particular,  con 
sidered  it  haunted. 

The  first  owner,  it  was  said,  had  amused  himself  in  the 
great  hall-room  by  making  his  own  children  stand  on 
their  toes,  switching  their  feet  with  a  whip  when  they 
dropped  upon  their  soles  from  pain  or  fatigue ;  and  his 
own  son  finally  shot  at  him  through  the  great  northern 
door  with  a  rifle  or  pistol,  leaving  the  mark  to  this  day,  to 
be  seen  by  a  small  panel  set  in  the  original  pine.  The 
third  owner,  a  lawyer,  often  entertained  travelling  clergy 
men  here  ;  and,  on  one  occasion,  the  eccentric  Reverend 
Lorenzo  Dow  met  on  the  stairs  a  stranger  and  bowed  to 
him,  and  afterwards  frightened  the  host's  family  by  telling 
it,  since  they  were  not  aware  of  any  stranger  in  the  house. 
The  room  over  the  great  door  had  always  been  consid 
ered  the  haunt  of  peculiar  people,  who  molested  nobody 
living,  but  appeared  there  in  some  quiet  avocation,  and 
vanished  when  pressed  upon. 

This  main  door  itself  had  a  church-like  character,  and 
was  battened  or  built  in  half,  so  that  the  upper  part  could 
be  thrown  open  like  a  window,  and  yet  the  lock  on  this 
upper  part  was  a  foot  and  a  half  long,  and  the  key  weighed 
a  pound. 

This  ponderous  door,  in  elaborate  carpentry,  opened 
upon  a  flight  of  steps  and  on  a  flower-yard  surrounded  by 


COWGILL    HOUSE.  427 

elms,  firs,  and  Paulownia  trees,  the  latter  of  a  beany  odor 
and  nature.  A  lower  servants'  part  of  the  dwelling,  in 
two  stones,  stretched  to  the  fields,  and  had  a  veranda- 
covered  rear. 

Van  Dorn  called  to  a  negro  : 

"  Buck  Ransom  !" 

"  Politely,  Captain,"  the  negro's  insinuating  voice  an 
swered. 

"Go  to  the  front  door  and  knock.  As  you  enter,  see 
that  it  is  clear  to  fly  open.  Then,  as  you  pass  along  the 
hall,  throw  the  windows  up." 

"  Politely,  Captain;"  the  negro  bowed  and  departed. 

"  Owen  Daw  !" 

"  Yer  honor !" 

"  Climb  into  the  big  tulip-tree  softly  and  take  this  mus 
ket  I  shall  reach  you.  Train  it  on  the  staircase  window, 
and  fire  only  if  you  see  resistance  there." 

The  boy  went  up  the  tree  with  all  his  vicious  instincts 
full  of  fight. 

"  Melson  !" 

"  Ay  yi !" 

"Milman!" 

"Ah!   boy." 

"  Get  yourselves  beneath  the  two  large  windows  on  the 
hall  and  serve  as  mounting-blocks  to  Sorden's  party.  I 
shall  storm  the  main  door.  As  we  enter  there,  Sorden, 
order  your  men  right  over  Melson  and  Milman  into  the 
windows  Ransom  has  lifted." 

"  I  love  him,"  muttered  Sorden,  admiringly,  "  as  I  never 
loved  A  male,"  and  collected  his  party. 

"  Whitecar,  you  and  your  brother  hold  the  back  door 
with  your  staves.  If  it  is  forced,  Miles  Tindel — " 

"  Tackle  'em,  Cap'n  Van  !" 

"  Will  throw  his  red-pepper  dust  into  the  eyes  of  any 
that  come  out." 

"  Oh,  tackle  'em,  Cap'n  Van  !" 


428  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Derrick  Molleston  !" 

"  See  me,  O  see  me  !"  the  powerful  negro  muttered. 

"Take  Herron  and  Vincent,  and  two  more,  and  guard 
the  kitchen  and  the  front  of  the  main  dwelling.  Knock 
any  creature  stiff,  except — ayme !  ay! — the  young  dam 
sels,  whose  fears  will  soon  trip  them  to  the  ground." 

"  See  me,  see  me  !"  the  negro  hoarsely  said. 

"  As  we  enter  the  door,  I  shall  cry,  *  Patty  Cannon  has 
come  !'  Then  spring  in  the  windows  and  beat  opposition 
down.  Relampaguea  !  Ransom  is  slow." 

The  knocker  on  the  great  door  sounded,  and  it  sprang 
open  and  quickly  slammed  again,  and  a  stifled,  strange 
sound  followed,  as  of  a  scuffle. 

Van  Dorn,  agile  as  a  panther,  sprang  on  Milman's 
back  and  looked  into  a  window  in  the  gable,  drawing  his 
face  away,  so  as  to  be  unseen  in  the  night. 

The  bright  interior  was  full  of  people,  sitting  back 
against  the  wainscoting,  as  if  listening  to  a  sermon,  while 
clown  the  middle  of  the  stately  hall  stretched  a  table 
lighted  by  whale-oil  lamps  and  many  little  candles,  and 
filled  with  the  remnants  of  a  feast.  The  stairway  in  the 
corner  Van  Dorn  could  not  see,  and  there  the  dusky  au 
dience  was  all  facing,  as  if  towards  the  preacher.  There 
seemed  a  something  out  of  the  common  in  the  kind  of 
attention  the  inmates  were  paying,  but  Van  Dorn's  eyes 
were  absorbed  in  the  sight  of  several  drooping  and  yet 
almost  startled  dove-eyed  quadroon  maids,  and  he  only 
noticed  that  the  spy,  Ransom,  could  not  be  seen. 

"  Sorden,"  Van  Dorn  said,  slipping  down,  "can  Ran 
som  have  betrayed  us  ?  Chis  !  they'all  look  as  if  a  death- 
warrant  was  being  read." 

"  My  skin  !     No,  Captain.     Air  they  all  there  ?" 

"  All,"  said  Van  Dorn  ;  "  I  see  thirty  thousand  dollars 
of  flesh  in  sigh'." 

"And  niggers  won't  scrimmage  nohow,"  spoke  White- 
car.  "  Let's  beat  'em  mos'  to  death." 


COWGILL    HOUSE.  429 

"  Come  on  then,"  said  Van  Dorn,  softly ;  "  if  the  win 
dows  are  not  lifted,  break  them  in." 

He  twisted,  by  main  strength,  a  panel  out  of  the  palings 
near  the  house,  and  led  the  way  to  the  great  front  door. 
A  dozen  desperate  hands  seized  the  heavy  panel  and  ran 
with  it.  The  door  flew  open,  but  at  that  moment  every 
light  in  Cowgill  House  went  out. 

"  Dar's  ghosts  in  dar,"  the  hoarse  voice  of  Derrick 
Molleston  was  heard  to  say,  and  the  negro  element 
stopped  and  shrank. 

"  Tindel,  your  torch  !"  Van  Dorn  exclaimed,  and,  after 
a  moment's  delay — the  old  house  and  shady  yard  mean 
time  illumined  by  lightning,  and  sounds  of  thunder  roll 
ing  in  the  sky — a  blazing  pine-knot,  all  prepared,  was 
procured,  and  Van  Dorn,  holding  it  in  his  left  hand,  and 
with  nothing  but  his  rude  whip  in  his  right,  bounded  in 
the  door,  shouting : 

"  Patty  Cannon  has  come  !" 

At  that  dreaded  name  there  were  a  few  suppressed 
shrieks,  and  the  great  windows  at  the  gable  side  fell  in 
wards  with  a  crash  as  the  kidnappers  came  pouring  over. 

Van  Dorn's  quick  eye  took  in  the  situation  as  he  waved 
his  torch,  and  it  lighted  ceiling  and  pilaster,  the  close-fast 
ened  doors  on  the  left  and  the  great  stairway-well  be 
yond,  filled  with  black  forms  in  the  attitude  of  defence. 

"  Patty  Cannon  has  come  !"  he  shouted  again  ;  "follow 
me  !" 

An  instant  only  brought  him  to  the  base  of  the  stair 
case,  and  the  lightning  flashing  in  the  gaping  windows 
and  fallen  door  revealed  him  to  his  followers,  with  his 
yellow  hair  waving,  and  his  long,  silken  mustache  like 
golden  flame. 

A  mighty  yell  rose  from  the  emboldened  gang  as  they 
formed  behind  him,  with  bludgeons  and  iron  knuckles, 
billies  and  slings,  and  whatever  would  disable  but  fail  to 
kill. 


43°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Van  Dorn,  far  ahead,  made  three  murderous  slashes 
of  his  whip  across  the  human  objects  above,  and,  with  a 
toss  of  that  formidable  weapon,  clubbed  it  and  darted  on. 

At  the  moment  loud  explosions  and  smoke  and  cries 
filled  the  echoing  place,  as  a  volley  of  firearms  burst 
from  the  landing,  sweeping  the  line  of  the  windows  and 
raking  the  hall.  The  band  on  the  floor  below  stopped, 
and  some  were  down,  groaning  and  cursing. 

"  They're  armed ;  it's  treachery,"  a  voice,  in  panic, 
cried,  and  the  cowardly  assailants  ran  to  places  of  refuge, 
some  crawling  out  at  the  portal,  some  dropping  from  the 
windows,  and  others  getting  behind  the  stairway,  out  of 
fire,  and  seeking  desperately  to  draw  the  bolts  of  the 
smaller  door  there. 

"  Patty  Cannon  has  come  !"  Van  Dorn  repeated,  throw 
ing  himself  into  the  body  of  the  defenders,  who,  terrified 
at  his  bravery,  began  to  retreat  upward  around  the  angles 
of  the  stairs. 

One  man,  however,  did  not  retreat,  neither  did  he  strike, 
but  wrapped  Van  Dorn  around  the  body  in  a  pair  of  long 
and  powerful  arms,  and  lifted  him  from  the  landing  by 
main  strength,  saying: 

"High  doings,  friend  !  I'm  concerned  for  thee." 

Van  Dorn  felt  at  the  grip  that  he  was  overcome.  He 
tried  to  reach  for  his  knife,  but  his  arms  were  enclosed 
in  the  unknown  stranger's,  who,  having  seized  him  from 
behind,  sought  to  push  him  through  the  square  window 
on  the  landing  into  the  grass  yard  below,  where  the 
rain  was  falling  and  the  lightning  making  brilliant  play 
among  the  herbs  and  ferns. 

As  the  kidnapper  prepared  himself  to  fall,  with  all  his 
joints  and  muscles  relaxed,  the  boy,  Owen  Daw,  lying 
bloodthirstily  along  the  limb  of  the  old  tulip-tree,  aimed 
his  musket,  according  to  Van  Dorn's  instructions,  at  the 
forms  contending  there,  and  greedily  pulled  the  trigger. 

The  Quaker's  arms,  as  they  enclosed  Van  Dorn,  pre- 


COWGILL    HOUSE.  43 I 

sented,  upon  the  cuff  of  his  coat,  a  large  steel  or  metal 
button,  and  the  ball  from  the  tree,  striking  this,  glanced, 
and  entered  Van  Dorn's  throat. 

"  Aymk!  Quay  T  Van  Dorn  muttered,  and  was  thrown 
out  of  the  window  to  the  earth,  all  limp  and  huddled  to 
gether,  till  John  Sorclen  bore  him  off,  muttering, 

"  I  loved  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

The  desperate  party  beneath  the  stairs  at  last  broke 
open  the  back  door  there  and  rushed  forth,  only  to  re 
ceive  handfuls  of  red  pepper  dust  thrown  by  Miles  Tin- 
del,  as  he  cried, 

"Tackle  'em,  Cap'n  Van  !" 

They  screamed  with  anguish,  and  rolled  in  the  wet 
grass,  and  yet,  with  fears  stronger  than  pain,  sought  the 
road  in  blindness,  and  some  way  to  leave  the  town. 

Young  Owen  O'Day,  or  Daw,  crept  down  the  tree,  and, 
seeing  Van  Dorn  in  Sorclen's  arms  at  the  wagon,  con 
temptuously  said,  as  he  mounted  his  mule  and  vanished : 

"  I  reckon  he'll  never  discipline  me  no  mo'." 

Derrick  Molleston,  regretting  the  loss  of  his  loping 
horse,  bore  out  to  the  wagon  an  object  he  had  found  striv 
ing  to  escape  from  the  veranda  at  the  kitchen  side,  though 
with  a  Eras:  in  his  mouth,  and  a  skewer  between  his  elbows 

o     o 

and  his  back. 

"  See  me,  see  me  !"  the  negro  kidnapper  spoke,  hoarse 
ly.  "  He's  mine  an'  Devil  Jim  Clark's.  I  tuk  him." 

"Why,  it's  Buck  Ransom,"  Sorden  said. 

"  An'  I'm  gwynto  sell  him,  too,"  the  negro  muttered, 
seizing  the  reins.  "You  see  me  now!  Maybe  he  cheat 
ed  us.  Any  way,  he's  tuk." 

The  old  wagon  started  at  a  run  through  the  driving 
rain,  the  black  victim  lying  helpless  on  his  back,  and 
Van  Dorn  bleeding  in  Sorclen's  arms,  who  continued  to 
moan, 

"  I  loved  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male !" 

Van   Dorn    made   several   efforts    to   talk,  and   often 


43 2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

coughed  painfully,  and  finally,  as  they  reached  a  lane 
gate,  he  articulated  : 

"The  Chancellor's?" 

"Yes,  dis  is  it,"  Derrick  Molleston  said.  "See  me, 
Cap'n  Van.  I's  all  heah." 

As  they  advanced  up  a  shady  lane,  fire  from  some 
where  began  to  make  a  certain  illumination  in  spite  of 
the  loud  storm. 

"  It's  Bill  Greenley.  He's  set  de  jail  afire,"  the  negro 
exclaimed.  "  See  me,  O  see  me  !" 

The  conflagration  gave  a  vapory  red  light  to  a  secluded 
dwelling  they  now  approached,  upon  a  bowery  lawn,  and 
Sorden  saw  a  woman  of  a  severe  aspect  looking  out  of  a 
window  at  the  fire. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  trespass  so  late  at  night?" 
she  called.  "  Are  you  robbers  ?  My  aged  husband  is 
asleep." 

"  Madam,"  answered  Sorden,  "  here  is  the  husband  of 
Mrs.  Patty  Cannon.  She  was  your  brother's  mother-in- 
law.  I  love  this  man  as  I  never  loved  A  male.  He  is 
wounded,  and  we  want  him  taken  in  till  he  can  have  a 
doctor." 

"Take  him  to  the  jail,  then,  if  that  is  not  it  burning 
yonder,"  the  woman  exclaimed,  scornfully.  "  Shall  I 
make  the  home  of  the  Chancellor  of  Delaware  a  hospital 
for  Patty  Cannon's  men  as  a  reward  for  her  sending  my 
brother  to  the  gallows  ?" 

She  closed  the  window  and  the  blind,  and  left  them 
alone  in  the  storm. 

"Drive,  Derrick,  to  your  den  at  Cooper's  Corners, 
quick,  then,"  Sorden  said. 

As  they  left  the  lane  a  flash  of  lightning,  so  near,  so 
white,  that  they  seemed  to  be  within  the  volume  and  cra 
ter  of  it,  enveloped  the  wagon.  One  horse  sank  down  on 
his  haunches,  and  the  other  reared  back  and  tore  from 
his  harness,  while  the  wagon  was  overset. 


TWO   WHIGS.  433 

The  negro  picked  up  his  helpless  fellow- African  and 
lifted  him  on  his  back,  starting  off  in  mingled  avarice  and 
terror,  and  saying, 

"  Derrick's  gwyn  home,  sho'.     See  me,  see  me  !" 

Van  Dorn  put  his  finger  at  his  throat,  where  blood  was 
all  the  while  trickling,  and,  with  a  gentle  cough,  extorted 
the  sounds : 

"  Leave  me — under  a  bush — to — die." 

"No,"  cried  Sorden,  raising  Van  Dorn  also  upon  his 
back  ;  "I  love  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

The  fire  of  the  burning  jail  lighted  their  return  into 
the  outskirts  of  Dover  and  to  the  gallows'  hill,*where 
stood  the  scaffold,  split  with  the  lightning  from  cross-beam 
to  the  death-trap.  As  they  halted  opposite  it  to  rest,  a 
horse  and  rider  came  stumbling  past,  and  Molleston, 
dropping  his  burden,  shouted  : 

"Bill  Greenley,  dat's  our  boss.     We  want  it." 

"  His  is  the  boss  that's  on  him,"  cried  the  escaped 
horse-thief,  looking  scornfully  up  at  his  own  gallows  as 
he  lashed  his  blinded  animal  along  in  the  rain. 

"  Cheer  up,  Captain  Van,"  John  Sorden  said,  soaked 
through  with  the  rain  ;  "  Yain't  fur  now  to  Cooper's  Cor 
ners." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

TWO    WHIGS. 

"  GOY  !  Look  at  the  trees,  friend  Custis,"  said  John 
M.  Clayton,  standing  before  his  office  as  the  rising  sun 
innocently  struck  the  tree-tops  in  the  public  square  of 
Dover. 

Judge  Custis,  sitting  at  an  upper  window,  observed  that 
many  noble  elms  and  locusts  had  been  riven  by  light 
ning,  or  torn  by  wind  and  wind-driven  floods  of  rain. 

"  What  a  night !"  Custis  exclaimed  ;  "  the  jail  burned, 
28 


434  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  lightning  appalling,  and  I  thought  I  heard  firearms, 
too." 

Judge  Custis  heard  Clayton  say,  as  he  entered  the  room : 

"  So  ole  Derrick  Molleston,  Aunt  Braner,  asked  you 
about  my  dinner,  did  he?  And  it's  Bill  Greenley  that 
burned  the  jail  ?  Goy  !  And  the  black  people  licked  the 
kidnappers  at  Cowgill  House  ?" 

"  Dat  dey  did,  praise  de  Lord!"  ejaculated  Aunt  Bra 
ner,  fervently. 

Clayton  turned  to  a  young  man  at  the  table,  now  dressed 
in  a  good  clean  suit  of  clothes,  and  said,  as  the  old  cook 
left  the  room  : 

"  Now,  friend  Dennis,  tell  your  tale.     Goy  !" 

The  boy,  whom  the  Judge  was  startled  to  recognize,  at 
once  began  : 

"  Jedge  Custis,  the  kidnapper  man  you  left  in  the  kitch 
en  has  stole  Aunt  Hominy  and  your  little  niggers.  They 
was  at  Johnson's  Cross-roads  last  night.  Maybe  they's 
gone  before  this.  My  boat  was  hired  to  take  'em  off,  and 
I  had  to  come  along,  but  I  run  away  from  the  band  and 
.give  warnin'  last  night  to  Mr.  Clayton  yer." 

Before  the  Judge  could  reply,  Clayton  exclaimed, 

"Now,  Brother  Custis, permit  me  now  !  Let  my  noble 
old  constituent  and  fellow-Whig,  Jonathan  Hunn,  resume !" 

"  Friend,"  spoke  out  a  wiry,  lean,  healthy-skinned  man, 
"  this  young  man  surprised  me  last  night  with  intelligence 
that  thy  Maryland  friends  were  marching  on  the  very 
capital  of  Delaware,  to  steal  men.  I  was  out  in  the  road 
at  that  late  hour  for  another  Christian  purpose,  and  the 
Lord  rewarded  me  with  this  good  one :  I  brought  friend 
Dennis  to  John  Clayton's  back  door,  and  he  lent  us  all 
his  firearms.  At  the  little  brick  grocery  of  William  Parke, 
just  beyond  the  Cowgill  House — where  I  am  told  he  sells 
ardent  liquors  to  negroes  contrary  to  law,  and  so  takes 
the  name  among  them  of 'Kind  Parke ' — I  found  several 
of  our  free  Delaware  negroes,  I  fear  on  no  good  errand. 


TWO  WHIGS.  435 

So  I  remarked,  'If  William  Parke,  contrary  to  law,  has 
been  selling  thee  brandy  out  of  an  eggshell,  as  if  he  knew 
not  the  contents,  I  shall  pay  him  to  repeat  the  vile  entice 
ment  quickly,  for  ye  who  are  of  the  world  must  fight  this 
night.' " 

"  Goy  !"  said  Clayton,  warming  up  ;  "  Quakers  will  set 
other  people  on,  won't  they  ?  Goy  !" 

"  Other  gunpowder  arms  were  there  procured,  and  we 
barricaded  Cowgill  House  so  as  to  make  it  at  once  a  de 
coy  and  a  hornet's  nest.  I  despise  war  and  men  of  war 
so  much  that  I  have  somewhat  studied  their  campaigns, 
and  I  suggested,  friend  Clayton,  that  the  stairway  was  a 
good  tactical  defensive  position — is  that  the  vain  term  ? — 
to  send  a  volley  out  the  main  door,  and  a  flank  fire  on 
every  door  and  window  on  the  sides  of  Cowgill's  hall.  It 
also  commanded  the  back  yard  by  a  window  on  the  stair 
case.  A  door  beneath  the  staircase  was  barricaded. 
There  was  a  festival,  or  feast,  given  that  night,  by  absent 
friend  Cowgill's  permission,  by  these  Dover  folks  of  color. 
I  would  not  wonder  if  it  was  designed  or  discovered  by 
these  scoundrels  on  thy  line  of  states,  friend  Custis.  I 
told  the  men-at-arms  to  leave  their  huzzies  all  below  in 
the  feasting-hail  till  the  attack  began,  and  then  to  let 
them  escape  up  the  stairway,  and  to  defend  that  stair  like 
sinful  men.  But  first  a  negro  spy  knocked  on  the  door, 
and  a  loop  was  thrown  over  his  neck,  and  two  of  the 
black  boys  gagged  him.  Then  the  attack  was  made,  and, 
at  my  order,  all  the  lights  were  put  out." 

"  Oh,  Jedge,"  Levin  Dennis  broke  in,  "it  was  short  and 
dreadful !  Captain  Van  Dorn  had  got  to  the  bottom  of 
the  stairs,  when  the  niggers  half-  way  up  fired  over  his 
head  and  shot  mos'  everything  down.  The  Quaker  man 
yer  then  pinioned  the  captain  an'  dropped  him,  wounded, 
out  of  the  high  window.  I  pity  Van  Dorn,  but  he  says 
that  he's  in  a  bad  business.  I  hope  he  ain't  dead." 

"  Who  is  this  Van  Dorn  ?"  asked  Judge  Custis.     "  I've 


436  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

heard  of  such  a  dare-devil,  but  he  has  never  pestered 
Princess  Anne." 

"  I  ran  and  hid  in  the  deep  eaves  of  the  garret  story," 
Levin  continued,  "  which  is  built  in  like  closets,  and  the 
wasps  there,  coming  in  to  suck  the  blossoms  on  the 
vines  that  has  growed  up  through  the  eaves  from  out 
side,  flew  around  in  the  dark  among  the  yaller  gals  that 
was  a-hidin'  and  a-prayin',  and  never  feelin'  the  wasps 
sting  em',  thinkin'  about  them  kidnappers.  I  reckon, 
gen'lemen,  the  kidnappers  will  never  come  to  Dover  no 
more." 

"  Two  things  surprise  me,"  Clayton  said  ;  "  that  Joe 
Johnson  would  venture  to  raid  Dover  itself  after  the  lick 
ing  I  got  him  ;  and  that  free  darkeys  could  make  such  a 
defence." 

"Ah!  John  Clayton,"  spoke  Jonathan  Hunn,  "there 
was  a  white  witness  there,  to  affirm  that  they  only  defend 
ed  their  lives." 

"It  was  Captain  Van  Dorn  that  raided  Dover,"  Levin 
spoke;  "Joe  Johnson  is  a  coward." 

"  Judge  Custis,"  said  Mr.  Clayton,  "  you  and  I  can  save 
this  peninsula,  at  least,  from  the  sectional  excitements 
that  are  coming.  You  must  surrender  to  Delaware  old 
Patty  Cannon  and  her  household.  She  now  lives  on  your 
side  of  the  line.  Come  over  to  the  Governor's  office  with 
me,  and  I  will  get  a  requisition  for  her  on  the  business 
of  last  night.  Young  Dennis  here  knows  the  band  ; 
friend  Hunn  saw  the  attack." 

Judge  Custis's  face  grew  suddenly  troubled. 

"  Clayton,"  he  said,  "  I  would  rather  not  appear  in  this 
matter.  Indeed,  you  must  excuse  me." 

"What!"  said  Clayton;  "hesitate  to  do  a  little  thing 
like  this,  after  the  free  opinions  you  have  expressed?" 

There  was  a  long,  awkward  pause.  The  Quaker  arose, 
and,  looking  well  at  Judge  Custis,  said  : 

"None  but  Almighty  God  knows  the  secrets  of  a  slave* 


TWO  WHIGS.  437 

holders  mind.     No  son  of  Adam  is  fit  to  be  absolute, 
over  any  human  creature." 

"  Amen  !"  Judge  Custis  said,  meekly. 

******* 

The  news  from  Princess  Anne  confirmed  the  loss  of 
Vesta  Custis's  slaves.  Judge  Custis  was  told  to  come 
home  and  take  steps  for  their  recovery,  but  he  was 
strangely  apathetic.  The  day  after  the  raid  Levin  Den 
nis  disappeared,  Clayton  only  saying  : 

"  Who  would  have  thought  that  soft-eyed  boy  was  al 
ready  fascinated  by  these  kidnappers  ?  He  has  taken  his 
horse  and  gone  back  to  Patty  Cannon's." 

The  suit  against  the  Canal  Company  required  a  great 
deal'  of  research,  as  law-books  were  then  scarce,  and  prec 
edents  for  breaches  of  contract  against  corporations  were 
not  many ;  this  form  of  legal  life  being  comparatively 
modern  in  that  day,  like  the  dawn  of  the  floral  age,  or  be 
fore  megatheriums  grazed  above  the  trees  or  iguanodons 
swam  in  the  canals.  Clayton  and  Custis  walked  and  ate 
and  lay  down  together,  comparing  knowledge  and  sugges 
tions,  and  the  litigious  mind  of  John  Randel,  Junior,  was 
rather  irritating  to  both  of  them,  so  that,  to  be  rid  of  his 
society  in  Dover,  the  two  lawyers,  meantime  supplied  with 
money  by  Meshach  Milburn's  draft,  resolved  to  visit  the 
canal,  which  was  distant  about  thirty  miles. 

The  three  men  started  together  in  a  carriage,  after 
breakfast,  on  a  soft  yet  frosty  morning,  such  as  often 
gives  to  this  region  a  winter  sparkle  and  mildness  like 
the  Florida  climate.  They  passed  several  tidal  creeks, 
as  the  Duck  and  the  Little  Duck,  the  Blackbird  and  the 
Apoquinimink,  and,  as  they  advanced,  the  barns  became 
larger,  the  hedges  more  tasteful  and  trimmed  like  those 
in  the  French  Netherlands,  the  leafless  peach  orchards 
stretched  out  like  the  tea-plants  in  China.  Two  or  three 
little  towns  studded  the  roadside,  the  woods  gave  way  al 
together  to  smaller  farms,  and,  at  a  steep  bottom  called 


43  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  Fiddler's  Bridge,  they  turned  across  the  fields  to  an 
old  four-chimneyed,  galleried  mansion,  at  the  end  of  a 
long  lane,  and  near  a  great  stagnant  pond,  where  John 
Randel,  Junior,  as  he  fully  named  himself  on  every  oc 
casion,  had  a  fine  dinner  spread. 

After  dinner  they  launched  upon  the  stream  in  a  row 
and  sail,  boat,  to  Mr.  Clayton's  trepidation,  and  bore  out 
through  acres  of  splutter-docks,  and  muskrats  and  terra 
pins  unnumbered,  and  many  wild-fowl,  to  the  Chesapeake 
and  Delaware  Canal,  which  extended  for  several  miles 
through  a  mighty  pond  or  feeder,  like  a  ditch  within  a 
bayou. 

The  negro  rower  tied  their  boat  behind  a  passing  ves 
sel,  which  towed  them  out  to  the  locks  at  the  Delaware 
River,  at  a  point  opposite  a  willowy  island,  and  where  an 
embryo  "  city "  had  been  started  in  the  marshes,  and 
there  they  waited  for  the  packet  from  Philadelphia.  Mr. 
Randel  took  his  negro  man,  a  person  of  sorrowful  yet  in 
expressive  countenance,  to  be  a  kind  of  piano  or  model 
on  which  to  play  his  fierce  gestures. 

"  Clayton,"  said  he,  sitting  on  a  stone  lock  in  the  even 
ing  gloaming,  "  I  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer.  Not  that 
I  am  not  the  greatest  theoretical  engineer  in  the  country, 
but  my  legal  genius  interposes,  and  I  sue  the  villains  who 
employ  me." 

Here  he  gave  the  melancholy  negro  a  violent  shaking, 
who  took  it  as  stolidly  as  a  bottle  of  medicine  shaken  by 
the  doctor. 

"  Yes,  you  sued  Judge  Ben  Wright  and  he  nonsuited 
you." 

"I  tell  you  a  new  axiom,  Clayton,"  the  earnest  engi 
neer  cried,  putting  the  negro  down  on  his  hams  and  sit 
ting  on  him  ;  "whoever  employs  genius  has  to  be  a  scoun 
drel.  In  the  nature  of  their  relations  it  is  so.  He  de 
flects  genius  from  its  full  expression,  absorbs  the  virtue 
from  it,  and  is  a  fraud." 


TWO  WHIGS.  439 

Here  he  kicked  the  negro  underneath  him,  who  hardly 
protested. 

"Well, then,"  spoke  Judge  Custis,  "as  Clayton  is  a  man 
of  genius,  and  you  employ  him — " 

"  I'm  a  scoundrel,  of  course,"  Randel  exclaimed.  "  His 
sense  of  law  and  right  must  yield  to  my  ideas.  Now 
look  at  this  canal !  Had  I  not  been  obliged  to  defer  to 
the  soulless  corporation  which  employed  me,  I  would 
have  dug  it  to  the  depth  that  the  tides  of  the  two  bays 
would  have  filled  it,  instead  of  damming  up  the  creeks  for 
feeders,  and  pumping  water  into  it  by  steam-pumps.  Then 
the  war-vessels  of  the  country  could  go  through,  and  the 
channel  would  be  purged  by  every  tide." 

He  stood  up  and  put  his  foot  on  the  negro,  to  the 
amusement  of  the  boys  gathering  around. 

"John  Fitch,  the  engineer,"  said  John  M.  Clayton, 
"left  a  curious  will;  it  begins, 'To  William  Rowan,  my 
trusty  friend,  I  bequeath  my  Beaver  Hat.'  " 

Judge  Custis's  countenance  fell,  thinking  of  another 
hat  which  had  entered  his  family. 

The  barge  on  which  they  embarked  had  numerous  pas 
sengers,  and  soon  came  to  a  small  lock-town  and  turn- 
bridge,  and,  a  few  miles  beyond,  entered  upon  a  serious 
piece  of  work,  leaving  the  trough  of  a  creek,  of  which  the 
canal  had  previously  availed  itself,  and  cutting  through 
the  low  ridge  of  the  peninsula,  which,  to  Judge  Custis, 
seemed  almost  mountainous.  He  was  of  that  patriotic 
opulence,  just  short  of  imagination,  which  rejoiced  in  pub 
lic  works,  and  this  little  canal,  only  fourteen  miles  long, 
was,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  the  only  achieved  work 
in  the  Union,  turnpikes  and  bridges  omitted.  Built  by 
the  national  government,  by  three  of  the  states  it  con 
nected,  and  by  private  subscription,  it  had  involved  two 
and  a  quarter  million  dollars  of  expense — no  light  bur 
den  when  the  population  was,  by  the  previous  census,  less 
than  eight  million  whites  in  all  the  land. 


44°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Judge  Custis's  family  troubles  faded  from  his  mind  as 
he  looked  up  at  the  deep  cutting,  nearly  seventy  feet  in 
height  of  banks,  with  sands  of  yellow  and  green,  and 
stains  of  iron  and  strata  of  marl,  some  of  which  had  fallen 
back  into  the  excavation  and  threatened  the  navigation 
again  ;  and,  when  he  saw  a  bridge,  called  the  Buck,  leap 
the  chasm  ninety  feet  overhead,  by  a  span  that  then 
seemed  sublimity  itself,  he  touched  Clayton  and  said  : 

"  Never  mind  my  failures  !     Thank  God,  I'm  a  Whig." 

"  Goy !  there's  nothing  like  it,"  said  Clayton. 

Not  far  from  this  point  the  canal  passed  an  old  church 
and  graveyard  at  a  bridge  where  Mr.  Clayton  said  his 
namesake,  the  revolutionary  Governor  of  Delaware,  was 
buried.  Here  Randal's  plain  conveyance  took  them  in, 
and  in  the  moonlight  they  drove  a  few  miles  to  Mr.  Ran- 
del's  estate,  near  the  banks  of  a  river,  under  a.  long  table- 
mountain  of  barren  clay  and  iron  stain,  on  the  farther 
shore. 

"  Here,"  said  Ranclel,  "  is  my  future  estate  of  Randalia. 
"  Here  I  shall  see  all  the  commerce  of  the  canal  passing 
by,  and  garnishee  every  vessel  that  pays  my  tolls  to  the 
Canal  Company." 

"  Ranclel,"  asked  Mr.  Clayton,"  what  were  those  stakes 
I  saw  some  distance  back,  running  north  and  south  across 
the  fields?" 

"  A  railroad  survey." 

"  Who  is  making  it  ?" 

"They  say  Meshach  Milburn,  of  Princess  Anne." 

"Goy!"  exclaimed  Clayton,  "I'll  beat  him." 
=**#=***# 

For  two  or  three  days  the  three  men,  still  studying  the 
canal  suit,  drove  over  a  picturesque  country,  visiting  the 
old  manor  of  the  Labadists  and  their  Bohemian  patron, 
Augustine  Herman,  the  homestead  of  the  late  treaty  min 
ister,  Bayard,  and  the  ancient  Welsh  Baptist  churches 
among  the  hills  of  the  Elk  and  Christiana,  where  some 


SPIRITS   OF   THE   PAST.  441 

of  Cromwell's  warriors  lay.  It  was  the  favorite  land  of 
Whitefield,  and  in  the  neighborhood  was  an  iron  furnace 
Judge  Custis  examined  with  melancholy  interest,  as  one 
of  the  investments  of  General  Washington's  father  more 
than  a  hundred  years  before,  when  the  Indians  made  the 
iron.  They  also  went  to  Turkey  Point,  where  the  British 
army  was  disembarked  to  capture  Philadelphia,  and  Knyp- 
hausen's  division  obliterated  the  history  of  Delaware  by 
carrying  her  records  away  from  Newcastle.  Returning 
from  one  of  these  pleasant  journeys,  two  messages  from 
different  points  seared  Judge  Custis's  eyeballs  : 

"Your  wife  died  at  Cambridge."*  "Your  daughter  is 
very  ill  at  Wilmington." 

"  To  Wilmington  !"  cried  Judge  Custis,  staggering  up. 
"Oh,  my  daughter  !  I  have  killed  her." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

SPIRITS    OF    THE    PAST. 

"WHAT  do  they  say,  William,  about  Jack  Wonnell's 
being  found  shot  dead  ?" 

"  It  is  generally  said  that  he  was  killed  by  the  negroes 
for  gallantries  to  their  color.  Some  talk  of  arresting  little 
Roxy  Custis." 

"What  do  you  say,  William  Tilghman?" 

"  I  can  say  nothing.  The  night  I  drove  Virgie  to  Snow 
Hill  I  drove  over  poor  Wonnell's  body.  A  strange  negro 
was  seen  here — an  enemy  of  your  servant,  Samson.  The 
new  cook  at  Teackle  Hall  thinks  he  fired  the  shot." 

The  young  rector  felt  the  searching  look  of  those  resin 
ous  forester's  eyes  staring  him  through. 

"That  shot  was  meant  for  me,  William  Tilghman." 

"  Perhaps  so." 

"It  was  the  shot  of  a  hired  murderer,  who  mistook 


442  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Wonnell's  unusual  hats  for  mine,  that  was  not  well  de 
scribed  to  him,  or  the  description  of  which  his  drunken 
and  excited  memory  did  not  retain." 

"  Mr.  Milburn,  please  save  Vesta  this  suspicion." 

"  Oh  !  that  pure  soul  could  not  know  it,"  Milburn  con 
tinued,  with  a  moment's  gentleness ;  "  but  some  of  her 
proud  kin,  to  whom  I  am  less  than  a  dog,  did  send  the 
assassin.  I  think  I  guess  the  man." 

"  Do  not  rush  to  a  conclusion  !  Remember,  Vesta  has 
suffered  so  much  for  others'  errors." 

"  He  was  killed  in  this  room,  where  Wonnell  never  came 
before.  The  wound  shows  the  shot  to  have  come  from 
a  point  below,  where  nothing  but  Wonnell's  hat,  and  not 
his  features,  could  be  seen.  The  mistake  of  bell-crown 
for  steeple-top  shows  that  it  was  a  stranger's  job :  the 
poor  fool  died  for  me.  Now  where  did  the  bungler  who 
killed  me  by  proxy  come  from  ?" 

"  I  will  be  frank  with  you,  sir.  Joe  Johnson,  the  kid 
napper,  was  also  here :  Mary  says  so.  To  save  Virgie 
from  him,  I  helped  her  away." 

"Now,"  said  Milburn,  "  what  enemy  of  mine  delegated 
the  kidnapper  to  procure  a  murderer?" 

He  waited  a  moment  without  response,  and  answered, 
in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  his  own  question  : 

"  The  man  is  at  Johnson's  Cross  Roads  :  letters  from 
Cambridge  tell  me  so.  It  was  the  deceased  Mrs.  Cus- 
tis's  brother,  Allan  McLane." 

"  Again  I  ask  you  to  think  of  Vesta  and  her  many  sac 
rifices  !" 

"I  do.  I  have  promised  her  that  she  shall  never  re 
ceive  a  cruel  word  from  me.  But  I  shall  not  spare  my 
assassins.  To  them  I  shall  be  as  one  they  have  killed, 
and  whose  blood  smokes  for  vengeance.  I  possess 
the  only  warrant  that  can  drive  them  from  Mary 
land." 

He  laid  a  roll  of  bank-notes  on  the  table  suggestively. 


SPIRITS    OF   THE    PAST.  443 

"No  wealth  is  accumulated  in  vain,"  said  Meshach 
Milburn,  his  delicate  nostrils  distended  and  his  fine  hand 
pointing  to  the  bank-bills.  "Now,  war  on  Johnson's 
Cross  Roads !" 

He  crossed  the  old  room  over  the  store,  and,  opening 
the  green  chest,  brought  out  the  Entailed  Hat,  and  took 
it  in  his  hand  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  Here  is  something  I  thought  to  lay  aside  on  my  wife's 
account,"  he  spoke.  "  Her  people  compel  me  to  wear 
it !  I  thought  all  malice  to  this  poor  hat  would  be  done 
with  my  social  triumph  here.  But  I  am  not  a  man  to  be 
frightened.  Let  them  kill  me,  but  it  shall  be  under  my 
ancestral  brim." 

"Oh!  hear  your  mocking-bird  sing  again  as  it  did: 
'Vesta — Meshach — Love  !'  Where  is  the  bird  ?" 

Meshach  Milburn  shook  his  head  and  put  the  Entailed 
Hat  upon  it.  "  Tom  left  me,"  he  said,  "  when  they  be 
gan  to  fire  bullets  at  my  Hat." 

#  *  *  #  *  #  # 

Vesta's  female  instinct  had  already  found  the  explana 
tion  of  Wonnell's  death. 

From  the  moment  of  knowing  her  husband,  his  fatal 
hat  had  been  the  shadow  across  her  life's  path.  His 
person  had  never  been  offensive  to  her,  and  something 
attractive  or  modifying  in  him  had  led  her,  when  a  child, 
to  offer  a  flower  to  his  hat,  to  give  it  consonance*  with 
himself,  that  seemed  to  deserve  less  evil. 

A  fancied  insult  to  his  hat  had  made  him  quarrel  with 
her  father,  a  quarrel  which  involved  her  conquest,  not  by 
wooing,  but  by  the  treaty  of  war.  The  same  hat  had  in 
spired  the  superstition  which  led  her  kitchen  servants  to 
leave  their  comfortable  home,  and  had  been  the  insuper 
able  obstacle  to  her  mother's  consent  to  her  marriage. 
It  had  caused  the  only  bitter  words  that  ever  passed  be 
tween  her  and  her  father.  At  last  it  had  spilled  blood, 
and  her  uncle,  she  well  knew,  from  his  implacable  nature, 


444  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

had  set  the  ruffians  on,  and  she  knew  as  well  that  her 
husband  had  found  him  out. 

His  intelligence,  which  would  have  been  otherwise  a 
matter  of  pride  to  her,  became  a  subject  of  fear,  involved 
with  his  hat. 

Then,  the  loss  of  Virgie  was  hardly  less  severe  to  Vesta 
than  her  own  mother's. 

It  was  true  that  Roxy,  pretty  and  loving,  now  poured 
all  her  devotion  at  her  mistress's  feet,  but  there  had  been 
something  in  Virgie  that  Roxy  could  never  rise  to — a  dig 
nity  and  self-reliance  hardly  less  than  a  white  woman's. 
Vesta  shed  bitter  tears  at  the  news  of  that  dear  comfort 
er's  flight,  and  on  her  knees,  praying  for  the  delicate 
young  wanderer,  she  felt  God's  conviction  of  the  sins 
of  slavery.  Alas  !  thousands  felt  the  same  who  would 
not  admit  the  conviction,  and  gave  excuses  that  welded 
into  one  nation,  at  last,  the  sensitive  millions  who  could 
not  agree  to  a  lesser  sacrifice,  but  were  willing  to  give 
war. 

A  little  note  from  Snow  Hill  told  Vesta  that  her  maid 
had  already  departed,  and  would  only  write  again  from 
free  soil. 

So  the  upbraided  hat  was  worn  more  often  than  before, 
and  Vesta  had  to  suffer  much  humiliation  for  it.  Her 
husband  now  moved  actively  to  organize  his  railroad,  and 
visited  the  Maryland  towns  of  the  peninsula,  taking  her 
along,  and  wearing  on  the  journey  his  King  James  -tile, 
now  swathed  in  mourning  crape. 

At  Cambridge,  which  basked  upon  the  waters  like  an 
English  Venice,  he  applied  the  sinews  of  war  to  a  listless 
public  sentiment,  and  the  county  press  began  to  call  for 
Joe  Johnson's  expulsion,  and  Patty  Cannon's  rendition 
to  the  State  of  Delaware.  At  Easton,  lying  between  the 
waters  on  her  treasures  of  marl,  like  a  pearl  oyster,  the 
people  turned  out  to  see  the  little  man  in  the  peaked  hat, 
with  the  beautiful  lady  at  his  side  j  and  Vesta  was  more 


SPIRITS    OF    THE    PAST.  445 

pained  for  her  husband  than  herself,  to  feel  that  his  outri 
dress  was  prejudicing  his  railroad,  as  business,  no  less 
than  beauty,  revolts  from  any  outward  affectation.  At 
the  old  aristocratic  homes  on  the  Wye  River,  more  scowls 
than  smiles  were  bestowed  on  the  eccentric  parvenu;  and 
at  Chestertown,  where  originated  the  Peales  who  drew 
this  hat  into  their  museum,  the  boys  burned  tar-barrels 
on  the  market  space,  and  marched,  in  hats  of  brown  loaf- 
sugar  wrappers,  like  Meshach's,  before  the  dwelling  of 
Vesta's  host. 

The  greater  the  opposition,  the  more  indomitable  Mil- 
burn  grew  to  live  it  down.  He  wrote  to  her  father  to  go 
to  Annapolis  and  work  for  a  railroad  charter  and  state 
aid,  and  began  grading  for  his  line  in  the  vicinity  of  his 
old  store  at  Princess  Anrie,  throwing  the  first  shovelful 
of  earth  himself,  with  the  immemorial  hat  upon  his  sconce. 
This  time  there  were  no  shouts,  and  he  almost  regretted 
it,  seeming  to  feel  that  jeers  carry  no  deep  malice,  while 
silence  is  hate. 

Loyal  to  her  least  of  vows,  and  wishing  to  love  and 
obey  him  in  spirit  fully,  Vesta  felt  that  his  own  good-nat 
ure  was  being  darkened  again  by  his  obstinacy  upon  this 
single  point  of  an  obsolete  hat. 

He  looked,  in  their  evening  circle  at  Teackle  Hall, 
like  a  younger  and  knightlier  person,  in  a  modern  suit  of 
clothes,  and  slippers  of  Vesta's  gift.  His  delicate  hand 
well  became  the  ring  she  put  upon  it,  and,  when  he  talked 
high  enthusiasm  and  sense,  and  stood  ready  to  back 
them  with  courage  and  money,  Vesta  thought  her  hus 
band  lacked  but  one  thing  to  make  him  the  equal  of  his 
supposititious  kinsman,  the  democratic  martyr  in  the  sev 
enteenth  century,  and  that  was  another  head-dress.  She 
almost  feared  to  broach  the  subject,  knowing  that  an 
old  sore  is  ever  the  most  sensitive,  and  being  too  di 
rect  and  frank  to  insinuate  or  practise  any  arts  upon 
him. 


446  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

She  was  embroidering  an  evening-cap  of  velvet  for  him 
one  day  when  Mrs.  Tilghman  sent  a  hat-box,  and  in  it 
was  a  fine  new  hat  of  the  current  style.  He  answered 
her  letter  politely,  and  put  the  new  hat  upon  the  rack  of 
Teackle  Hall,  and  never  touched  it  again. 

Next,  Rhoda  Holland,  his  niece,  procuring,  from  some 
country  beau,  a  beaver-skin — and  beavers  were  growing 
scarce  and  dear  in  that  peninsula — had  him  an  elegant 
cap  made  of  it  for  the  cold  weather  now  coming;  but  he 
only  kissed  her  and  put  it  on  the  rack,  and  there  it  tempt 
ed  the  moth. 

His  chills  and  fever  continued  at  broken  times,  but 
more  regular  became  the  dislike  and  opposition  of  the 
old  class  of  society  as  he  undertook  to  become  the  pro 
moter  of  his  region.  They  regarded  it  as  audacity  worse 
than  crime  :  he  had  outstripped  them  in  wealth,  and  now 
was  undermining  their  importance.  Many  avowed  that 
they  would  never  ride  on  a  railroad  built  by  such  a  man  ; 
others  hoped  it  would  break  him  ;  some  took  open  ground 
against  his  work,  and  wrote  letters  to  Annapolis  to  preju 
dice  him  with  the  Legislature,  where  the  Baltimore  inter 
est  was  already  crying  loudly  that  an  Eastern  Shore  rail 
road  meant  to  take  Maryland  trade  and  money  to  Phila 
delphia.  Meshach  fiercely  responded  that,  unless  the 
railway  took  the  line  of  the  Maryland  counties,  Delaware 
state  would  build  it  and  carry  it  off  to  Newcastle  instead 
of  to  Elkton,  where  Meshach  meant  to  unite  with  a  pro 
jected  Baltimore  system.  Prudently  estimating  the 
sparseness  of  his  fortune  to  execute  a  hundred  miles  of 
embankment  and  railroad,  Milburn  yet  kept  up  a  display 
of  surveyors  and  graders  in  several  counties,  and  his  local 
patriotism  had  at  least  the  appreciation  of  Vesta's  little" 
circle. 

In  the  meantime  the  continued  absence  of  Samson  sur 
prised  him,  and  Judge  Custis's  letters  were  irregular  and 
long  coming  as  he  went  farther  north,  while  two  letters 


SPIRITS   OF   THE    PAST.  447 

received  by  the  Widow  Dennis  were  as  mystical  as  they 
were  assuring:  one,  in  a  female  hand,  told  her  that  her 
son  Levin  was  being  tenderly  watched,  and  another,  in 
man's  writing,  enclosed  some  money,  and  said  her  son 
would  soon  be  home.  Mrs.  Dennis  was  far  from  happy 
in  this  indefinite  state  of  mind,  and  her  heart  told  her, 
also,  that  the  absence  of  James  Phoebus  was  a  different 
strain.  She  loved  that  absentee  already  too  well  to  for 
give  his  silence. 

One  day,  before  November,  Vesta  said  to  her  husband  : 

"The  air  and  sky  are  warm  and  sparkling  yet,  and  the 
roses  are  out.  You  work  too  hard  between  your  canal 
case  and  your  railroad.  Let  us  fill  the  two  carriages  and 
drive  to  old  Rehoboth,  and  eat  our  dinner  there." 

He  consented,  and  they  took  with  them  Grandmother 
Tilghman  and  William,  Rhoda  Holland,  Roxy,  and  Mrs. 
Dennis,  and  also  the  poor  free  woman,  Mary,  whom  Jim 
my  Phoebus  had  released  from  her  chains. 

The  road  passed  in  sight  of  the  birthplace  of  the  lion 
of  independence  in  Maryland,  Samuel  Chase,  who  forced 
that  hesitating  state,  by  threatenings  and  even  riots,  to 
declare  for  permanent  separation  from  England,  as  Henry 
Winter  Davis,  by  the  same  means,  eighty-five  years  after 
wards,  forced  her  rebels  against  the  Union  to  show  their 
hands. 

Near  Chase's  birthplace,  on  the  glebe,  rose  the  old 
Washington  Academy,  out  in  a  field,  raised  in  that  early 
republican  day  when  a  generous  fever  for  education,  fol 
lowing  the  act  of  tolerance,  made  some  noble  school- 
houses  that  the  growth  of  towns  ultimately  discouraged. 
With  four  great  chimneys  above  its  conical  roof,  and  pedi 
ments  and  cupola,  and  two  wide  stories,  and  high  base 
ment,  all  made  in  staid,  dark  brick,  the  academy  yet  had 
a  mournful  and  neglected  look,  as  if,  like  man,  it  was 
ruminating  upon  the  more  brutalized  times  and  lessening 
enlightenment  false  systems  ever  require. 


448  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Ah!"  said  Vesta's  husband,  "how  many  a  poor  boy 
thou  hast  sent  from  yonder  mutilated  for  life,  honey,  like 
the  lovers  of  the  queen  bee." 

"How  is  that?"  Vesta  inquired. 

"  You  never  heard  of  the  queen  bee  ?  Women,  when 
they  die,  may  turn  to  bees,  and  reverse  their  hard  condi 
tions  in  this  life.  The  queen  bee  has  no  rival  in  the  hive; 
all  other  females  there  are  immature,  and  all  the  males 
are  dying  for  the  queen.  She  has  five  hundred  lovers,  so 
lovesick  for  her  that  they  never  work,  and  forty  times  as 
many  maids,  like  Penelope's,  all  embroidering  comb  and 
wax." 

"  How  was  that  proved  ?" 

"By  putting  the  bees  in  a  glass  house  and  watching 
them.  To  God  all  mankind  may  be  in  a  glass  hive,  too, 
and  every  buzzer's  secret  biography  be  kept." 

"  And  the  queen  bee's  honeymoon  ?" 

"  From  her  that  word  is  taken.  She  flies  high  into  the 
air  and  meets  a  lover  by  chance;  she  has  so  many  that 
one  is  sure  to  be  met;  she  kisses  him  in  that  crystal  eddy 
of  sunshine,  and,  in  the  transport,  he  is  wounded  to  the 
heart.  How  many  young  drones  from  the  academy  have 
seen  thee  once  and  swooned  for  life !" 

"  But  the  queen  bee  also  has  a  fate  some  time,  sir?" 

"Yes.  She  leaves  the  ancient  hive  at  last,  and  settles 
on  an  unsightly  forest-tree  somewhere,  and  all  that  love 
her  follow:  the  long-neglected  herb  becomes  busy  with 
music  and  sweetness,  and  the  flashing  of  silver  wings,  till 
into  some  gum-tree  cone  the  farmer  gathers  the  swarm, 
and  it  is  their  home." 

Vesta  looked  up  at  the  poetical  illustration,  and  saw 
her  husband's  conical  hat,  into  which  she  had  been 
hived,  and  her  eyes  fell  to  her  mourning  weeds. 

"  Oh,  my  father  !"  she  thought ;  "  has  he  kept  his  good 
resolutions  !  It  is  all  I  have  left  to  hope  for." 

They  travelled  down  the  aisles  of  the  level  forest,  some- 


SPIRITS   OF   THE    PAST.  449 

times  the  holly-trees,  in  their  green  leafage  and  red  fruit, 
sometimes  the  cleanly  pine-tree's  green,  enriching  the 
brown  concavity  of  oaks ;  and  at  the  scattered  settle 
ment  of  Kingston,  the  Jackson  candidate  for  governor, 
Mr.  Carroll,  bowed  from  his  door.  Crossing  Morumsco 
Creek,  they  bore  to  the  east,  and  soon  saw,  on  a  plain, 
the  still  animate  ecclesiastical  hamlet  of  Rehoboth,  ex 
tending  its  two  ancient  churches  across  the  vision. 

The  road  ran  to  the  bank  of  the  River  Pocomoke, 
where  a  ferry  was  still  maintained  to  the  opposite  shore 
and  the  Virginia  land  of  Accomac,  and  the  cold  tide, 
without  a  sail,  went  winding  to  an  oystery  estuary  of  the 
bay,  where  the  mud  at  the  bottom  was  so  soft  that  ves 
sels  aground  in  it  could  still  continue  sailing,  as  on  the 
muggy  globe  that  Noah  came  to  shore  in. 

Close  by  were  oyster-shells  high  as  a  natural  bluff, 
made  by  the  Indian  gourmands  before  John  Smith's  voy 
age  of  navigation. 

Vesta  was  set  out  at  the  great,  ruined  Episcopal  church 
that,  like  a  castle  of  brick,  made  the  gateway  of  Reho 
both  ;  while  William  Tilghman  and  Rhoda  strolled  into 
the  open  door  of  the  brick  Presbyterian  church  farther 
on,  and  Milburn  put  up  the  horses  at  the  tavern. 

"  William,"  Rhoda  asked,  "  was  this  the  first  Presby 
terian  church  ever  made  yer?" 

"  The  first  in  America,  Rhoda.  This  was  Rev.  Francis 
Makemie's  church.  He  lived  in  Virginia,  not  far  from 
here,  where  no  other  worship  was  permitted  but  ours,  so 
he  came  over  the  Pocomoke  and  reared  a  church  of  logs 
at  this  point,  and  this  is  the  third  or  fourth  church-build 
ing  upon  the  spot.  Rehoboth  then  came  to  be  such  a 
point  for  worship  that  the  Established  Church  put  up 
yonder  noble  old  edifice,  as  if  to  overawe  this  Calvinistic 
one,  in  1735." 

"It's  a  quare  old  house,"  said  Rhoda.  "The  little 
doors  that  opens  from  the  vlestiblule  into  the  side  galler- 

29 


450  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ies  sent  a  draught  right  down  the  preacher's  back  at  the 
fur  end,  and  when  he  give  out  the  hymn,, '  Blow  ye  the 
trumpet,  blow,'  he  always  blowed  his  nose  twice.  So  they 
boarded  up  the  galleries  and  let  the  ceiling  down  flat, 
and  if  we  go  up  thar  we  can  see  the  other  old  round  ceil 
ing,  William." 

So  they  went  up  the  narrow  stairs  from  the  door,  and 
came  into  the  tubes  of  galleries  all  closed  from  the  con 
gregation,  and  there,  sitting  down  in  the  obscurity,  the 
preacher  passed  his  arm  around  Rhoda's  waist. 

"  Take  keer,"  she  said  ;  "  maybe  you  was  predestined 
to  be  lost  yer.  I'm  skeered  to  be  up  yer  half  in  the  dark, 
even  with  a  good  man." 

Nevertheless,  she  came  a  little  closer  to  him,  and  looked 
into  his  eyes  with  her  arch,  demure  ones.  The  young 
rector  suddenly  kissed  her. 

"  You've  brought  it  on  yourself,  Rhoda,  by  looking  so 
pretty  in  this  stern  old  place  of  creeds  and  catechisms. 
Could  you  love  me  if  I  asked  you  ?" 

"  You  couldn't  love  me  true,  William.  Your  heart  is  in 
t'other  old  church  among  the  bats  and  foxes,  where  Aunt 
Ves-ty  sits  this  minute." 

"  No,  my  sorrow  is  there.  Rhoda.  I  am  trying  to  build 
a  nest  for  my  heart.  We  all  must  love." 

"William,  I  don't  think  a  young  man  in  love  can  re 
member  so  much  history  when  he's  sittin'  in  the  dark  by 
his  gal." 

"  Love  among  the  ruins  is  always  melancholy,  Rhoda." 

"Yes,  William,  and  your  love  comes  out  of 'em  :  the 
ruins  of  your  old  first  love.  I  couldn't  make  you  happy." 

"  Try,"  said  William ;  "  my  fancy  wavers  towards  you. 
You  are  a  beautiful  girl." 

"  Yes,"  said  Rhoda,  practically,  "  it's  time  I  was  gittin' 
married.  I  think  I'll  take  you  on  trial,  and  watch  Aunt 
Vesty  to  see  if  she  is  jealous  of  me." 

All  differences  of  education  passed  away,  when,  stand- 


SPIRITS   OF  THE   PAST.  451 

ing  for  a  moment  with  this  tall,  willowy  girl  in  his  arms, 
her  ardent  nature  in  the  blush  of  uncertainty,  her  very 
coquetry  languishing,  like  health  taking  religion  captive, 
the  rector  of  Princess  Anne  felt  that  there  is  no  medicine 
for  love  but  love. 

They  walked  together  around  the  square  old  edifice, 
among  the  graves  of  Tilghmans,  Drydens,  Revells,  and 
Beauchamps,  and  saw  the  round-capped  windows  and 
double  doors  in  arched  brick,  and,  passing  back  along  the 
road,  entered  the  enclosure  of  the  grand  old  Episcopal 
church,  which  was  nearly  eighty  feet  long,  and  presented 
its  broadside  of  blackish  brick,  and  double  tier  of  spa 
cious  windows,  to  the  absolute  desertion  of  this  forest 
place. 

The  churchyard  was  a  copse  of  gum-tree  and  poplar 
suckers,  and  berry  bushes,  with  apple-trees  and  cedars 
and  wild  cherry-trees  next  above,  and  higher  still  the 
damp  sycamores  and  maples,  growing  out  of  myrtle  near 
ly  knee-deep  upon  the  waves  of  old  graves. 

In  beautiful  carpentry,  the  thirteen  windows  on  this 
massive  side  upheld  in  their  hand-worked  sashes  more 
than  four  hundred  panes  of  dim  glass,  and  two  great  win 
dows  in  the  gable  had  fifty  panes  each,  and  stood  firm, 
though  the  wall  between  them,  fifty  feet  in  width,  had 
fallen  in,  and  been  replaced  with  poorer  workmanship. 
In  the  opposite  gable  was  another  door  that  had  been 
forced  open,  and,  as  they  stepped  across  the  sill,  a  crack, 
like  ice  firsjt  stepped  upon,  went  splitting  the  long  and 
lofty  vacancy  with  warning  rumbles. 

Now  the  whole  interior,  in  fine  perspective,  stood  ex 
posed,  at  least  seventy-five  by  fifty  feet,  like  a  majestic 
hall  unbroken  by  any  side-galleries,  and  with  double  sto 
ries  of  windows  shedding  a  hazy  light,  and,  at  the  distant 
end,  a  low  pulpit,  with  spacious  altar.  The  walls  of  this 
neglected  temple  were  two  feet  thick,  and  its  high  ceiling 
was  kept  from  falling  down  by  ten  rude  wooden  props  of 


452  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

recent  rough  carpentry ;  the  pews  were  stately,  high- 
fenced  things,  numbered  in  white  letters  on  a  black  ground, 
and  each  four-sided,  to  contain  ten  persons ;  the  rotting 
damask  cushions  in  many  of  them  told  of  a  former  aris 
tocracy,  while  now  all  the  congregation  could  be  assem 
bled  in  a  single  pew,  and  worship  was  unknown  but  once 
a  year,  when  the  bishop  came  to  read  his  liturgy  to  dust 
and  desolation. 

So,  on  the  opp&site  western  cape  of  the  Chesapeake, 
shivered  the  Roman  priests  of  Calvert's  foundation,  in 
the  waste  of  old  St.  Mary's ;  the  folds  had  left  the  shep 
herds,  and  fifty  people  only  came  to  worship  in  the  kirk 
of  the  earliest  Presbyterians. 

Two  tall,  once  considered  elegant,  stoves  were  nearly 
midway  up  the  cracking  church-floor  ;  and  Mary,  the  free 
woman,  had  made  a  fire  in  one  of  them,  and  the  pine 
wood  was  roaring,  and  the  long  height  of  pipe  was 
smoking.  Startled  by  the  fire,  a  venerable  opossum 
came  out  of  one  of  the  pews,  and  waggled  down  the  aisle, 
like  a  gray  devotee  who  had  said  his  prayers,  and  feared 
no  man. 

Vesta  was  reading  her  prayer-book  aloud  near  the 
stove  to  the  pretty  widow  and  Grandmother  Tilghman. 
In  a  few  moments  the  young  rector  emerged  from  a  curi 
ous  old  gallery  for  black  people,  by  the  door,  wearing  his 
surplice;  and  he  read  the  service  at  the  desk,  plaintive 
and  simple,  Milburn  and  his  group  responding  in  the 
room  a  thousand  might  have  worshipped  in. 

"  Cousin  Vesta,"  the  minister  said,  after  the  service, 
"  Miss  Holland  is  going  to  try  to  love  me.  Mr.  Milburn, 
may  I  address  her?" 

"She  is  a  wilful  piece,"  Meshach  said;  "you  must 
school  her  first.  Let  my  wife  give  my  consent." 

Vesta  went  to  both,  and  kissed  them  : 

"  I  feel  so  much  encouraged,  dear  Rhoda  and  William, 
to  see  love  beginning  all  about  me.  Now,  Norah,  if  you 


SPIRITS   OF   THE    PAST.  453 

could  be  just  to  James  Phoebus,  who  is  proving  his  love 
to  you,  perhaps,  with  his  life  !" 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  match  I  approve  of,"  said  Grandmother 
Tilghman,  "  but  I  don't  want  Bill  to  marry.  Disappointed 
men  make  rash  selections." 

"  Oh,"  said  Rhoda,  "  don't  conglatulate  him  too  soon  ; 
I  haven't  tuk  him  yet.  He's  goin'  teach  me  outen  the 
books,  and  I'll  teach  him  outen  the  forest." 

They  walked  together  to  the  river  bank,  and  Mrs.  Den 
nis  had  the  poor  woman,  Mary,  tell  the  adventures  of 
Jimmy  Phoebus  to  save  her  from  slavery.  All  were  deeply 
moved. 

"Now,  Norah,"  Grandmother  Tilghman  said,  "  the  mo 
ment  that  man  comes  back  you  go  to  him  and  kiss  him, 
and  say,  *  James,  you  have  been  the  only  father  to  my 
son.  Do  you  want  me  to  be  your  wife?'  This  world  is 
made  for  marrying,  Norah.  Women  have  no  other  career. 
Nature  does  not  value  the  brain  of  Shakespeare,  but  keeps 
the  seed  of  every  vagrant  plant  warm,  and  marries  every 
thing." 

"Well,"  said  Vesta,  "Norah  loves  James  Phoebus; 
don't  you,  Norah?" 

The  widow  blushed. 

"  Take  him,  my  pretty  neighbor,"  said  Milburn. 

As  they  all  looked  at  her,  she  suddenly  cried  : 

"  I  want  to,  indeed.  I  would  have  done  so  before,  but 
I  am  superstitious.  Who  is  it  that  feeds  me  so  mysteri 
ously  ?" 

"Has  he  been  coming  of  late?"  asked  Mrs.  Tilgh 
man. 

"  No,  not  since  you  were  married,  Vesta." 

"Then  I  think  it  will  come  no  more,"  Milburn  said. 
"  You  have  waited  longer  than  I  did." 

His  eyes  sought  his  wife's.     He  added  : 

"  Will  I  ever  be  more  than  your  husband  ?" 

"Yes,"   said   Grandmother  Tilghman,  with   a  special 


454  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

effort,  "  when  you  wear  a  hat  a  young  wife  is  not  ashamed 
of." 

All  felt  a  cold  thrill  at  these  words  from  the  blind 
woman.  Milburn  said,  gravely, 

"  How  can  you  know  about  hats,  when  you  cannot  see 
them  ?" 

"Oh,"  said  Grandmother,  herself  a  little  frightened, 
"  that  hat  I  think  I  can  smell." 

******* 

That  same  night,  in  Princess  Anne,  Mrs.  Dennis,  in 
her  little  cottage,  undressed  herself  by  a  fragment  of 
hearth-fire  that  now  and  then  flashed  upon  the  picture 
of  her  husband,  as  he  had  left  her  sixteen  years  before, 
when  Levin  was  a  baby — a  rich  blonde,  youthful  man, 
dressed  in  naval  uniform,  like  Decatur,  whose  birthplace 
was  so  near  his  own. 

His  golden  hair  curled  upon  his  forehead,  his  blue 
eyes  were  full  of  handsome  daring,  and  his  red,  pouting 
mouth  was  like  a  woman's ;  upon  his  arm  a  corded  cha- 
peau  was  held,  epaulettes  tasselled  his  shoulders,  his  rich 
blue  coat  was  slashed  with  gold  along  the  wide  lappels, 
and  stood  stiffly  around  his  neck  and  fleecy  stock  and 
fan-shaped  shirt-ruffles.  He  seemed  to  be  a  mere  boy, 
but  of  the  mettle  which  made  American  officers  and  pri- 
vateersmen  of  his  days  the  only  guerdons  of  the  repub 
licanism  of  the  seas  against  the  else  universal  dominion 
of  England. 

This  portrait,  the  last  of  her  family  possessions,  was 
the  young  sailor's  parting  gift  to  her  when  he  sailed  in 
the  Ida,  leaving  her  a  mere  girl,  with  his  son  upon  her 
breast.  The  picture  hung  above  the  lowly  door,  the  bolt 
whereof  was  never  fastened  in  that  serene  society,  and 
seldom  is  to  this  day. 

Mrs.  Dennis  knelt  upon  the  bare  floor,  and  raised  her 
branching  arms,  white  as  her  spirit,  to  the  lover  of  her 
youth  : 


SPIRITS   OF   THE    PAST.  455 

"Oh,  thou  I  have  adored  since  God  gave  me  to  feel 
the  beauty  and  strength  of  man  in  my  childhood,  if  I 
have  ever  looked  on  man  but  thee  with  love  or  wavering, 
rebuke  me  now  for  the  offence  I  am  to  do,  if  such  it  be, 
in  choosing  another  father  for  thy  boy !" 

A  low  wail  seemed  to  be  breathed  upon  the  midnight 
from  somewhere  near,  and  a  sick  man's  cough  seemed  to 
break  the  perfect  silence.  The  widow's  hand  instinct 
ively  covered  her  bosom  as  she  listened,  and,  deep  in  the 
spirit  of  her  prayer,  she  continued  : 

"  Oh,  Bowie,  if  thou  livest,  let  me  know !  May  I  not  live 
to  see  thee  come  and  find  me  in  another's  arms  ;  thy  look 
would  kill  me.  If  thou  art  detained  by  enemies,  by  sav 
age  people,  or  by  foreign  love,  no  matter  what  thy  errors, 
I  will  still  be  true !  Give  me  some  token  by  the  God 
that  has  thee  in  his  keeping,  whether  thou  liest  on  the 
ocean's  floor  or  lookest  from  the  stars.  If  thou  art  dead, 
love  of  my  youth,  assure  me,  oh,  I  pray  thee !" 

The  wail  and  hacking  cough  seemed  to  be  repeated 
very  near.  A  footstep  seemed  to  come. 

The  door  flew  open,  and  in  the  moonlight  stood  a  man, 
pale  as  a  ghost,  of  bandit  look,  with  Spanish-looking  gar 
ments,  and  head  and  neck  tied  up  with  cerements,  like 
wounded  people  in  the  cockpits  of  ships  of  war. 

He  bent  upon  her  the  eyes  of  the  portrait  above  the 
door.  How  changed !  how  like  !  There  seemed  upon 
his  throat  the  stain  of  blood. 

The  widow,  fascinated,  frozen  still,  let  fall  her  arms  of 
ivory,  and,  as  she  gazed,  her  beautiful  neck,  strained  in 
horror  and  astonishment,  received  upon  its  snow  the  rapt 
ure  of  Diana's  shine. 

The  effigy,  so  like  her  husband,  yet  so  altered,  reached 
towards  her  his  hand,  on  which  a  diamond  caught  the 
moon,  and  seemed  to  drink  it.  A  wail,  like  the  others 
she  had  heard,  broke  from  his  lips,  and  said  the  words  : 

"  To  lose  those  charms  !    To  lose  that  heart !    O  God  !" 


45^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

As  thus  he  stood,  ghastly  and  supplicating,  as  if  he 
would  fall  and  die  upon  her  threshold,  another  hand 
came  forward  in  the  moonlight,  and  drew  the  door  be 
tween  them.  A  voice  she  had  not  heard  tenderly  ex 
claimed  : 

"  I  love  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male !" 

"It  is  my  husband's  spirit,"  the  widow  breathed.  "I 
cannot  marry." 

She  swooned  upon  her  floor,  before  the  dying  fire. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 
VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT. 

SNOW  HILL,  when  Virgie  looked  forth  upon  it,  almost 
seemed  built  on  snow,  a  white  sand  composing  the  streets, 
gardens,  and  fields,  though  the  humid  air  brought  vegeta 
tion  even  from  this,  and  vines  clambered,  willows  drooped, 
flowers  blossomed,  on  winter's  brink,  and  great  speckled 
sycamores,  like  freckled  giants,  and  noble  oaks,  rose  to 
heights  betokening  rich  nutrition  at  their  roots. 

Heat  and  moisture  and  salt  had  made  the  land  habita 
ble,  and  the  wind  from  a  receded  sea  had  piled  up  the 
sand  long  ago  into  mounds  now  covered  with  verdure, 
which  the  freak  or  fondness  of  the  manor  owner  had 
called  a  hill,  and  put  his  own  name  thereto,  perhaps  with 
memories  of  old  Snow  Hill  in  London. 

Upon  this  apparent  bank  or  hill  two  venerable  churches 
stood,  both  of  English  brick,  the  Episcopalian,  covered 
with  ivy,  and  the  Presbyterian,  which  had  given  its  name 
to  the  first  synod  of  the  Kirk  in  the  new  world,  and  now 
stood,  surrounded  with  gravestones,  where  the  visitor 
might  read  Scottish  names  left  to  orphans  at  Worcester, 
as  yonder  at  the  Episcopate  graveyard,  names  left  to 
English  orphans  in  the  same  rolling  tide  of  blood  ;  and 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  457 

Worcester  was  the  name  of  the  county,  as  the  court  and 
jail  might  tell. 

Hidden  in  the  sand,  like  Benjamin's  cup  in  the  bag 
of  flinty  corn,  a  golden  lustre  yet  seemed  to  betray  Snow 
Hill,  as  the  sun  rose  into  its  old  trees,  and  woke  the  liquid- 
throated  birds,  and  finally  made  the  old  brick  and  older 
whitewashed  houses  gleam,  and  exhale  a  soft,  blue  smoke. 
Virgie  heard  a  sound  as  of  hoofs  upon  a  bridge,  and  saw, 
across  the  lily-bordered  river,  the  Custis  carriage  winding 
up  a  golden  road. 

"  Alone  !"  said  Virgie  ;  "  love  has  gone.  Now  I  must 
live  for  freedom." 

"  Breakfast,  Miss,"  spoke  a  neat,  kind-faced,  yet  ready 
woman,  of  Virgie's  own  size  and  color;  "my  husband  is 
going  to  drive  you  out  of  town  before  any  of  the  white 
people  are  up  to  see  you." 

At  the  table  was  a  mulatto  man,  whom  the  woman 
introduced  as  her  husband. 

"Mrs.  Hudson,"  Virgie  said,  "you  are  doing  so  much 
for  me  !  may  the  good  Lord  pay  you  back  !" 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  the  woman,  "  I  am  always  up  at  this 
hour.  I  work  hard,  because  I  am  trying  to  buy  my 
mother,  who  is  still  a  slave." 

"  How  came  you  free  ?"  Virgie  asked,  wistfully. 

"  I  saved  a  sick  gentleman's  life,  and  he  bought  me  for 
it,  and  gave  me  my  freedom.  See,  I  have  a  pass  that 
tells  the  color  of  my  eyes  and  skin,  my  weight,  and  ev 
erything.  With  this  I  can  go  into  Delaware  and  the  free 
states.  I  wish  you  had  one,  Miss  Virgie." 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Hudson,  I  dearly  wish  I  had.  Let  me  read  it. 
Why,  I  could  almost  pass  for  you,  from  this  description." 

"Indeed  you  could,"  the  housewife  said;  "we  are  not 
of  the  same  age,  but  white  people  don't  read  a  pass  very 
careful." 

"  How  I  would  love  anybody  that  could  get  me  such  a 
pass !" 


45 8  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  I  have  given  my  word  of  honor  that  I  will  never  lend 
it.  Much  as  I  like  to  help  my  color  to  freedom,  I  cannot 
break  my  word.  To-morrow  I  have  to  go  into  Delaware 
with  my  pass  to  nurse  a  lady." 

"You  attend  the  sick,  Mrs.  Hudson?" 

"Yes,  I  have  a  kind  of  call  that  way,  Miss  Virgie. 
Ever  since  I  was  a  girl  I  pulled  herbs  and  tried  them  on 
myself,  and  studied  'tendin'  on  people,  watchin'  their 
minds,  that  is  so  much  of  sickness,  and  how  to  wrap  and 
rub  them.  My  husband  oysters  down  in  the  inlets.  Here 
is  his  wagon." 

"  The  Lord  remember  you  in  need,  dear  Mrs.  Hud 
son." 

The  old  wagon,  an  open  thing,  to  peddle  oysters  and 
fish,  was  driven  across  the  town  to  the  south,  and  soon 
was  in  the  open  country,  going  towards  Virginia.  A 
smell  of  salt  bay  seemed  in  the  air ;  the  hawks'  nests  in 
dead  trees  indicated  the  element  that  subsisted  every 
thing,  and  the  trees  in  the  fields  were  often  lordly  in 
size,  though  sand  and  small  oak  and  pine  woods  were 
seldom  out  of  sight.  As  they  turned  into  a  lane  near  a 
little  roadside  place  of  worship,  a  young  white  man  rode 
by  on  horseback,  and,  seeing  Virgie,  reined  in  and  shouted, 

"  Purty,  purty,  purty  as  peaches  and  cream  !  Ole  Vir- 
ginny  blood  is  in  them  eyes,  by  the  Ensign  !" 

The  colored  man  muttered, "  Go  'long,  Mr.  Wise  !" 

"By  the  Ensign  now,"  continued  the  man,  who  was 
young,  but  of  a  cadaverous  countenance,  "  if  'tis  a  Mary 
land  huzzy,  she  is  marvellous.  What's  the  name,  angel 
gal  ?" 

"  She's  a  Miss  Spence.  I'm  a  takin'  her  home  yer," 
the  mulatto  man  interposed,  hastily,  and  went  in  the  gate, 
while  the  horseman,  with  a  shout  like  one  intoxicated, 
gallopped  towards  the  north. 

"  I'm  sorry  he  seen  you,  sho' !"  the  conductor  said  ; 
"that's  Henry  A.  Wise,  the  big  lawyer  from  Accomac. 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  459 

Maybe  he'll  inquire   at  Snow  Hill,  where  he's  goin'  to 
court." 

"  What  house  is  this,  Mr.  Hudson  ?"  Virgie  asked, 
seeing:  at  the  end  of  the  short  lane  a  thickset  house  and 

O 

porch,  with  small  farm-buildings  around  it. 

"  That's  ole  Spring  Hill,  built  by  the  first  of  the  Mil- 
burns  ;  by  the  one  that  made  the  will  leavin'  his  hat  and 
nothin'  else  to  he  son.  It's  got  brick  ends.  I  'spect  they 
had  money  when  they  come  here,  Virgie." 

The  quickened  mettle  of  the  girl  noticed  that  he  had 
ceased  to  call  her  "  Miss." 

"  Now,"  said  Hudson,  "  I'm  goin'  to  leave  you  here 
with  my  sister  till  I  see  about  gittin'  a  boat.  If  you  is 
tracked  to  Snow  Hill,  it'll  be  found  you  come  out  this 
way,  now.  The  inlets  run  up  along  the  coast  yer  past 
the  Delaware  line.  I'm  a  goin'  to  sail  you  past  Snow 
Hill  agin  an'  double  on  'em.  Yes,  Miss  Virgie,  I'll  git 
you  away  if  it  costs  all  I  have  got  together." 

An  excited  light  seemed  to  be  in  his  eyes. 

Virgie  was  put  in  a  loft  over  the  kitchen  of  the  house, 
and  left  to  her  contemplations.  The  place  was  nearly 
dark,  and  she  was  jaded  for  want  of  sleep,  the  past  night's 
excitement  having  shaken  her  nervous  system,  and  soon 
she  began  to  doze  fitfully,  and  dream  almost  awake. 

She  saw  Meshach  Milburn,  who  seemed  to  have  be 
come  a  little,  old-faced  child,  reaching  up  to  an  older  per 
son,  very  like  himself  in  features,  and  taking  a  steeple 
hat  from  his  hand.  This  older  child  reached  back, 
and  took  a  similar  hat  from  another,  still  older ;  and 
then  the  first  two  vanished,  and  two  old  men  were  giv 
ing  and  receiving  the  hat. 

Then  nothing  was  left  but  the  hat  alone,  which  was  a 
huge  object  with  fire  belching  from  it,  and  by  the  flame  a 
circle  of  wizards  went  round  and  round  in  dizzy  glee,  all 
wearing  hats  of  similar  form,  but  higher,  higher,  till  they 
reached  the  sky  and  stars,  and  each  was  spouting  flames. 


460  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Among  these  riotous  wizards  she  recognized  the  feat 
ures  of  the  tall  kidnapper  and  of  Judge  Custis  ;  and  Vesta, 
too,  was  there,  and  old  Aunt  Hominy,  all  giving  a  hasty 
look  of  shame  or  sorrow  or  severity  at  her,  till  she,  fear 
ing,  yet  fascinated,  leaped  into  the  circle,  and  danced 
around  and  around  with  the  rest,  till  her  feet  made  a  fiery 
path  and  her  head  was  burning  hot,  and  finally  she  lost 
her  balance,  and  fell  into  the  great  hat,  whose  high  walls, 
like  mountains,  surrounded  her,  and  nothing  could  she 
see  in  the  bottom  of  the  old  felt  tile  but  a  little  grave, 
and  peeping  from  it  was  the  face  of  the  murdered  child 
the  kidnapper  had  taken  away. 

"  Come,"  said  a  voice,  and  Virgie  awoke,  with  fever  in 
her  temples  and  hot  hands,  to  see  the  head  of  her  con 
ductor  looking  into  the  loft  as  if  with  red-hot  eyeballs. 

She  only  knew  that  she  was  going  again  in  the  old 
wagon,  and  a  boy  was  in  it,  and  that  after  a  certain 
time,  she  could  not  tell  how  long,  she  was  helped  to  the 
ground  at  an  old  landing,  where  the  road  stopped,  and 
was  placed  on  board  a  sort  of  scow,  which  the  breeze, 
laden  with  mosquitoes,  was  carrying  into  a  broad,  islet- 
sprinkled  water. 

The  man  Hudson  was  sounding,  and  was  watching  the 
sail,  while  the  boy  steered,  and  Virgie  was  lying,  sick  and 
cold,  in  the  middle  of  the  skiff,  covered  with  the  man's 
large  coat. 

It  seemed  to  her  to  be  afternoon,  and  the  ocean  some 
where  near,  as  she  heard  low  thunder,  like  breaking 
waves ;  and  once,  when  she  rose,  in  a  stupefied  way,  to 
look,  there  were  familiar  objects  on  both  shores,  and  she 
thought  it  was  the  Old  Town  beach  near  Snow  Hill  inlet. 

A  little  later  the  man  brought  her  oysters  and  some 
cold  pork-rib,  with  corn-bread,  to  eat,  and  the  shores 
grew  closer,  and  finally  seemed  almost  to  meet,  as  the 
skiff,  scraping  the  bottom,  darted  through  a  narrow  strait. 

Then  the  stars  were  shining  over  her,  and  the  waters 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  461 

grew  wide  again,  and,  lying  in  a  trance  of  flying  lights 
and  images,  she  thought  she  felt  her  lips  kissed,  and  a 
voice  say  "  Darling  !" 

Finally,  she  felt  lifted  up  and  carried,  and,  when  she 
could  realize  the  situation,  she  found  herself  lying  on  a 
pile  of  shingles  at  an  old  wharf,  and  the  man,  beside  her, 
was  weeping,  as  he  watched  the  boat  receding  down  a 
moonlit  aisle  of  wave. 

"  My  boy,  my  poor  ole  woman,"  she  heard  her  con 
ductor  mutter,  "I  never  can  come  back  to  you  no  mo'!" 

"  Why  ?"  spoke  Virgie,  hardly  realizing  what  she  said. 

"Because — because — you  did  it!"  the  man  exclaimed, 
with  ardent  eyes,  seen  through  his  streaming  tears. 

"Oh,  tell  me  where  I  am  !"  Virgie  said.  "Is  it  far  to 
freedom  now?" 

She  looked  at  the  sky,  all  agitated  with  clouds  and 
stars  moving  across  each  other,  and  it  seemed  the  near 
est  world  of  all. 

"  Is  my  father  there  ?"  thought  Virgie,  "  my  dear  white 
father?  Can  he  see  me  here,  sick  and  lonely,  and  hate 
me?" 

"  We're  at  de  Shingle  landing  ;  yonder  is  St.  Martin's," 
said  the  negro,  cautiously ;  "  there's  two  roads  nigh  whar 
we  air,  goin'  to  the  North,  clear  Virgie ;  one  is  the  stage- 
road,  and  t'other  is  the  shingle-trail  through  the  Cypress 
Swamp. 

"  Take  the  road  that's  the  safest  to  Freedom,"  Virgie 
sighed. 

In  a  few  moments,  walking  over  the  ground,  they  came 
to  a  place  where  the  cart-trail  crossed  a  sandy  road,  and 
went  beyond  it,  along  the  edge  of  a  small  stream.  The 
man  walked  a  few  steps  up  the  better  road  undecidedly, 
and  suddenly  drew  Virgie  back  into  the  bushes,  but  not 
quick  enough  to  be  unobserved  by  two  men  coming  on 
in  an  old,  rattling  wagon. 

"  My  skin  !"  cried  the  man  driving,  a  youngish  man, 


4^2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

of  sharp,  but  not  unkindly  eyes,  "  thar's  a  sniptious  gal. 
Come  out  yer  and  show  yourself!" 

Virgie  felt  the  man's  eyes  resting  on  her,  but  not  with 
the  coarse  ardor  of  his  companion,  who  wore  a  wide 
slouched  hat  and  red  shirt,  and  was  bandaged  around 
the  head  and  throat,  yet  from  his  ghastly  pale  face,  like 
death,  on  which  some  blood  seemed  to  be  smeared,  and 
to  stain  the  bandage  at  his  neck,  lay  a  coarse  leer,  and 
he  kissed  his  mouth  at  her,  and  uttered  : 

"  Oflexuosa  !  esquisita!     It  is  dainty,  Sorden  !" 

"  Now  ef  we  was  a  going  t'other  way,  Van  Dorn,"  the 
driver  said,  "we  could  give  them  a  lift.  Boy,  what  are 
you  out  fur  ?  Where's  your  passes  ?" 

"  Yer  they  is.  It's  my  wife  an'  me,  gwyn  to  nurse  a 
lady  in  Delaware." 

"  Let  me  see !"  He  puffed  his  cigar  upon  the  paper, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Prissy  Hudson  ?  why,  my  skin !  that's 
my  wife's  nurse.  And  that  ain't  the  same  woman  !  where 
did  you  get  this  pass  ?" 

"  Go  on,  Sorden  !"  coughed  the  other  man,  "  I'm  bleed 
ing.  Let  me  lie  down." 

His  eyes  had  lost  their  wanton  fire,  and  were  hollow 
and  glazing.  The  driver  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and 
uttered  the  kind  words, 

"  I  love  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male !" 

"Give  me  back  the  passes!"  exclaimed  the  mulatto 
man,  as  the  wagon  started  south. 

"  No,"  shouted  the  driver,  "  I  shall  keep  them  as  evi 
dence  against  Prissy  Hudson  for  assisting  a  runaway !" 

"  Lost !  lost !"  muttered  the  mulatto.  "  Now,  darling, 
the  swamp's  our  only  road  !" 

He  seized  her  in  his  flight,  and  pulled  her  up  the  cart- 
track  along  the  swampy  branch. 

"What  have  you  done?"  cried  Virgie. 

"  Come !  come  !"  answered  the  man.  "  Here  is  no 
place  to  talk." 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  463 

With  fever  making  her  strong,  and  heightening,  yet 
clouding,  her  impressions,  so  that  time  seemed  extinct, 
and  fear  itself  absorbed  in  frenzy,  the  girl  followed  the 
man  into  the  deep  sand  of  the  track,  and  scarcely  noted 
the  melancholy  cypress-trees  rising  around  them  out  of 
pools  that  sucked  poison  from  the  starlight,  basking  there 
beside  the  reptile. 

Flowers,  with  such  rich  tints  that  night  scarcely  dark 
ened  them,  sent  up  their  musky  perfumes,  and  vines,  in 
silent  festoons,  drooped  from  high  tips  of  giant  trees  like 
Babel's  aspiring  builders,  turned  back  and  stricken  dumb. 
They  fell  all  limp,  and,  hanging  there  in  death,  their  beards 
still  seemed  to  grow  in  the  ghastly  vitality  of  an  immortal 
dream. 

The  sounds  of  restless  animation,  intenser  in  the  night, 
as  if  the  moon  were  mistress  here,  and  wakened  every 
insect  brain  and  tongue  to  industry,  grew  prodigious  in 
the  sick  girl's  ears,  and  seemed  to  deaden  every  word  her 
male  companion  had  to  say,  and,  like  enormous  pendu 
lums  of  sound,  the  roaming  crickets  and  amphibia  swung 
to  and  fro  their  contradictions,  like  viragos  doomed  to 
wait  for  eternity,  and  each  insist  upon  the  last  word  to 
say : 

"You  did!"  "You  didn't!"  "You  did!"  "You  didn't, 
you  didn't,  you  didn't !"  "  You  did,  you  did  !" 

Thus  the  eternal  quarrel,  begun  before  Hector  and  the 
Greeks  were  born,  had  raged  in  the  Cypress  Swamp,  and 
increased  in  loudness  every  night,  till  on  the  flying  slave 
girl's  ears  it  pealed  like  God  and  Satan  disputing  for  her 
soul. 

As  this  idea  increased  upon  her  fancy  she  heard  the 
very  words  these  warring  powers  hurled  to  and  fro,  as 
now  the  myriads  of  the  angels  cheered  together,  "  Halle 
lujah  !  Hallelujah  !"  and,  like  an  army  of  spiders,  assem 
bled  in  the  swamp,  a  deep  refrain  of  "  Hell,  hell,  hell  !" 
groaned  back. 


464  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"Hallelujah!"    "Hell!"    "Hallelujah!" 

She  found  herself  crying,  as  she  stumbled  on,"  Halle 
lujah!  hallelujah!" 

The  swamp  increased  in  depth  and  solemnity  as  they 
drew  near  the  rushing  sluices  of  the  Pocomoke,  and  kept 
along  them,  the  trail  being  now  a  mere  ditch  and  chain 
of  floating  logs  where  no  vehicle  could  pass,  and  the  man 
himself  seemed  frightened  as  he  led  the  way  from  trunk 
to  float  and  puddle  to  corduroy,  sometimes  balancing 
himself  on  a  revolving  log,  or  again  plunging  nearly  to 
his  waist  in  vegetable  muck ;  but  the  light-footed  girl  be 
hind  had  the  footstep  of  a  bird,  and  hopped  as  if  from 
twig  to  twig,  and  seemed  to  slide  where  he  would  sink  ; 
and  the  man  often  turned  in  terror,  when  he  had  fallen 
headlong  from  some  treacherous  perch,  to  see  her  slender 
feet,  in  crescent  sandals,  play  in  the  moonlit  jungle  like 
hands  upon  a  harp. 

He  stared  at  her  in  wonder,  but  too  wistfully.  The 
cat-briers  hung  across  the  opening,  and  grape-vines,  like 
cables  of  sunken  ships,  fell  many  a  fathom  through  the 
crystal  waves  of  night ;  but  the  North  Star  seemed  to  find 
a  way  to  peep  through  everything,  and  Virgie  heard  the 
words  from  Hudson,  once,  of — 

"Jess  over  this  branch  a  bit  we  is  in  Delaware !" 

Then  the  crickets  and  tree-frogs,  the  bull-frogs  and  the 
whippoorwills,  the  owls  and  everything,  seemed  to  drown 
his  voice  and  halloo  for  hours,  "We  is  in  Delaware  !  we 
is,  we  is  !  we  is  in  Del-a-a-ware  !" 

A  little  warming,  kindly  light  at  length  began  to  blaze 
their  trail  along,  as  if  some  gentle  predecessor,  with  a 
golden  adze,  had  chipped  the  funereal  trees  and  made 
them  smile  a  welcome.  Small  fires  were  burning  in  the 
vegetable  mould  or  surface  brush,  and  the  opacity  of  the 
forest  yielded  to  the  pretty  flame  which  danced  and  al 
most  sang  in  a  household  crackle,  like  a  young  girl  in  love 
humming  tunes  as  she  kindles  a  fire. 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  465 

The  mighty  swamp  now  grew  distinct,  yet  more  inac 
cessible,  as  its  inner  edges  seemed  transparent  in  the  line 
of  fires,  like  curtains  of  lace  against  the  midnight  window- 
panes.  The  Virginia  creeper,  light  as  the  flounces  of  a 
lady,  went  whirling  upward,  as  if  in  a  dance ;  the  fallen 
giant  trees  were  rich  in  hanging  moss ;  laurel  and  jas 
mine  appeared  beyond  the  bubbling  surface  of  long,  green 
morass,  where  life  of  some  kind  seemed  to  turn  over 
comfortably  in  the  rising  warmth,  like  sleepers  in  bed. 

Suddenly  the  man  took  Virgie  up  and  carried  her 
through  a  stream  of  running  water,  brown  with  the  tan 
nin  matter  of  the  swamp. 

"  We  is  in  Delaware,"  he  said,  soon  after,  as  they 
reached  a  camp  of  shingle  sawyers,  all  deserted,  and 
lighted  by  the  fire,  the  golden  chips  strewn  around,  and 
the  sawdust,  like  Indian  meal,  that  suggested  good,  warm 
pone  at  Teackle  Hall  to  Virgie. 

She  put  her  feet,  soaked  with  swamp  water,  at  a  burn 
ing  log  to  warm,  and  hardly  saw  a  mocasson  snake  glide 
round  the  fire  and  stop,  as  if  to  dart  at  her,  and  glide 
away;  for  Virgie's  mind  was  attributing  this  kindly  fire 
to  the  presence  of  Freedom. 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  lie  here  and  go  to  sleep,"  she 
said,  languidly  ;  "  I  am  so  tired." 

The  man  Hudson,  wringing  wet  with  the  journey's  dif 
ficulties,  threw  his  arms  around  her  and  drew  her  to  his 
damp  yet  fiery  breast. 

"We  will  sleep  here,  then,"  he  breathed  into  her  lips; 
"  I  love  you  !" 

The  incoherence  of  everything  yielded  to  these  sudden 
words,  and  on  the  young  maid's  startled  nature  came  a 
reality  she  had  not  understood  :  her  guide  was  drunken 
with  passion. 

She  struggled  in  his  arms  with  all  her  might,  but  was 
as  a  switch  in  a  maniac's  hands. 

"I  stole  my  ole  woman's  pass  fur  you,"  the  infatuated 


466  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ruffian  sighed  ;  "  you  said  you  would  love  the  man  who 
got  you  one,  Virgie.  You  is  mine  !" 

A  suffocating  sense  and  heat,  more  than  animal  nature, 
seemed  to  enclose  them.  The  girl  struggled  free,  her 
lithe  figure  exerted  with  all  her  dying  strength  to  preserve 
her  modesty. 

"  Hudson,"  she  cried,  "  I  will  tell  your  wife  !  God  for 
give  you  for  insulting  a  poor,  sick,  helpless  girl  in  this 
wild  swamp !" 

"  My  wife  is  dead  to  me,  Virgie.  You  is  the  only  wife 
I  has  now.  Here  we  shall  sleep  and  forgit  my  children 
and  my  little  home  that  was  enough  fur  me,  gal,  till  your 
beauty  come  and  tuk  me  from  it." 

"Stop  !"  the  girl  called,  with  her  face  blanched  even  in 
her  fever,  though  not  with  fear,  as  her  white  blood  rose 
proudly.  "  If  you  do  not  keep  away,  I  will  throw  myself 
in  that  deep  pool  and  drown.  I  would  rather  die  than 
cheat  your  good  wife  as  you  have  done." 

"  Nothing  is  yer,"  the  negro  said,  "  but  you,  an'  me,  an' 
Love.  I  would  not  let  you  drown.  You  are  too  beauti 
ful.  We  will  get  to  the  free  states  together  and  live  for 
each  other.  Kiss  me  !" 

He  darted  upon  her  again  and  bent  her  fair  head  back 
by  the  fallen  braids  of  her  silky  hair. 

The  tall  woods  filled  with  majestic  light;  something 
roared  as  if  the  winds  had  gone  astray  and  were  rushing 
towards  them. 

"Hark!"  cried  Virgie.  "God  is  coming  to  punish 
you." 

As  she  spoke  the  ground  beside  them  burst  into  flames 
and  black  smoke.  The  man's  arms  relaxed  ;  he  looked 
around  him  and  exclaimed, 

"  It's  the  underground  fire.     Run  fur  your  life !" 

He  led  the  way,  running  to  the  north,  as  they  had  been 
going.  In  a  moment  fire,  like  a  golden  wall,  rose  across 
their  path. 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  467 

They  turned  whence  they  had  come,  and  the  fire  there 
was  like  a  lake  of  lava,  and  over  it  the  enormous  trees 
seemed  to  warm  their  hands,  and  up  the  dry  vines,  like 
monkeys  of  flame,  the  forked  spirits  of  the  burning  earth 
dodged  and  chased  each  other. 

"  Gal,  I  can't  leave  you  to  perish,"  the  desperate  man 
shouted  ;  "  you  must  love  me  or  we'll  die  together." 

He  threw  his  wet  great-coat  around  her  head,  so  that 
she  could  not  breathe  the  smoke  nor  spoil  her  beauty, 
and  dashed  into  the  fire  ahead  of  them. 

#  #=£*:*  *  * 

Virgie  awoke,  lying  upon  the  ground,  the  stars  still 
standing  in  the  sky,  but  some  streaks  of  light  in  the  east 
betokening  dawn. 

Her  hands  were  full  of  soot,  her  skirts  were  burned, 
some  smarting  pains  were  in  her  legs  and  feet,  but  she 
could  walk. 

"Where  is  that  poor,  deluded  man  ?"  she  thought. 

A  groan  came  from  the  ground,  and  there  lay  some 
thing  nearly  naked,  burrowing  his  face  in  a  pool  of  swamp 
water. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  you  are  not  dead,"  the  girl  said,  "  but 
have  lived  to  repent  and  be  a  better  man." 

He  rose  up  and  looked  at  her  with  a  face  all  blackened 
and  raw  and  hideous  to  see. 

"  Merciful  Lord  1"  exclaimed  Virgie  ;  "  what  ails  you, 
pore  man  ?" 

"The  Lord  has  punished  me  for  my  wickedness,"  he 
groaned.  "Virgie,  you  must  lead  me  now;  I  am  gone 
blind." 


468  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT  (continued}. 

"  CAN  you  walk,  Hudson  ?"  asked  Virgie,  when  her  hor 
ror  would  permit. 

"Yes,  child,  I  can  walk,  I  reckon  •  but  both  my  eyes  is 
burned  out.  Oh,  my  pore  old  wife  :  she  could  nurse  me 
so  well.  I  have  lost  her." 

The  girl  comforted  the  sightless  man,  and  led  him  on, 
indifferent  to  danger.  He  waded  the  deep  places,  where 
the  water  soothed  his  wounds  and  filled  his  blistered 
sockets  with  cool  mud. 

"Blessed  is  the  pure  in  heart,"  he  murmured,  as  they 
reached  some  sandy  ground  and  sank  down.  "  You,  Vir 
gie,  can  see  God  ;  I  never  can." 

The  great  Cypress  Swamp  of  Delaware — counterpart 
of  the  Dismal  Swamp  in  Virginia — the  northern  border 
of  which  they  had  now  reached,  had  probably  been  once 
a  great  inlet  or  shallow  bay  in  the  encroaching  sand-bar 
of  the  peninsula,  and  was  filled  with  oysters  and  fish, 
which  in  time  were  imprisoned  and  became  the  manure 
of  a  cypress  forest  that  soon  started  up  when  springs  of 
water  flowed  under  the  sand  and  moistened  the  seed ; 
and  for  ages  these  forests  had  been  growing,  and  had  been 
prostrated,  and  had  dropped  their  leaves  and  branches 
in  the  great  inlet's  bed,  until  a  deep  ligneous  mass  of 
combustible  stuff  raised  higher  and  higher  the  level  of 
the  swamp,  and,  dried  with  ages  more  of  time  than  dried 
the  mummies  of  the  Pharaohs,  it  often  opened  tunnels  to 
burrowing  fire,  which  at  some  point  of  its  course  belched 
forth  and  lighted  the  hollow  trees,  and  raged  for  weeks. 
Such  a  fire  they  had  come  through. 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  469 

Virgie,  in  the  early  daylight,  came  upon  a  small,  swarthy 
boy,  driving  a  little  cart  and  ox. 

"  Are  you  a  colored  boy  ?"  Virgie  asked. 

"  No,"  answered  the  boy,  proudly.  "  I'm  Indian-river 
Indian  ;  reckon  I'm  a  little  nigger." 

"  Take  this  poor  men  in  and  I  will  pay  you.  Where 
are  you  going?" 

"  To  Dagsborough  landing,  for  salt." 

"  Leave  me  at  Dagsborough,  at  the  old  Clayton  house," 
spoke  up  the  blind  man  ;  "  it's  empty.  I  can  die  thar  or 
git  a  doctor." 

Before  the  people  were  up  they  entered  a  little  hamlet, 
on  that  stage  road  from  which  they  had  made  the  night's 
detour,  and  saw  a  few  small  houses  and  a  little  shingle- 
boarded  church  near  by  among  the  woods,  and  one  large 
house  of  a  deserted  appearance  was  at  the  town's  extrem 
ity.  The  man  said,  "This  is  John  M.  Clayton's  birth 
place  :  my  wife  used  to  work  yer." 

"  Virgie  !"  exclaimed  a  familiar  voice. 

The  girl  turned,  her  ears  still  ringing  with  tne  echoes 
of  the  swamp,  and  saw  a  face  she  knew,  and  ran  to  the 
breast  beneath  it,  crying, 

"  Samson  Hat !  Oh,  friend,  love  me  like  my  mother. 
I  am  very  ill." 

"  Pore,  darlin'  child,"  Samson  said ;  "  no  love  will  I  ever 
bodcler  you  wid  agin  but  a  father's.  Why  air  you  so  fur 
from  home  ?" 

"  I'm  sold,  Samson  :  I'm  trying  to  get  free.  The  kid 
nappers  is  after  me.  Oh,  save  me  !" 

"  I've  jist  got  away  from  'em,  Virgie.  The  ole  woman, 
Patty  Cannon,  set  me  free.  I  promised  her  I  would  kid 
nap  somebody  younger  dan  ole  Samson.  Bless  de  Lord  ! 
I  come  dis  way  !" 

He  led  her  into  the  oak-trees  of  the  old  church  grove, 
where  English  worship  had  been  celebrated  just  a  hun 
dred  years ;  and  she  gave  him  money  to  buy  medicine 


47°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

and  get  a  doctor  for  the  blind  man,  and  to  purchase  her 
a  shawl  at  the  store.  Then  Virgie  sank  into  a  fevered 
sleep  under  the  old  oak-trees,  and,  when  she  knew  more, 
was  gliding  in  a  boat  that  Samson  was  sailing  down  a 
broad  piece  of  water,  and  her  head  was  in  his  lap. 

"  You  air  pure  as  an  angel  yit,  my  little  creatur," 
Samson  said ;  "  and  now  I'm  a-takin'  you  down  the  In 
dian  River  into  Rehoboth  Bay;  and  arter  dark  I'll  git 
you  up  the  beach  to  Cape  Hinlopen,  and  maybe  I  kin 
buy  you  a  passage  on  some  of  dem  stone  boats  dat's 
buildin'  de  new  breakwater  dar,  and  dat  goes  back  to  de 
Norf." 

"  Oh,  Samson,  if  I  could  love  any  man  it  would  be  you," 
Virgie  said  ;  "  but  I  cannot  love  any  now  except  my  dear 
white  father.  Who  is  he  ?" 

"  De  Lord,  I  reckon,  has  got  yo'  pedigree,  Virgie." 

"  Am  I  dying,  Samson  ?"  asked  the  girl,  wistfully,  with 
her  brilliant  eyes  full  of  fever.  "  Oh,  friend,  let  me  die  so 
good  that  Miss  Vesty  and  my  father  can  come  and  kiss  me!" 

"  Tell  me  about  Princess  Anne  an'  my  dear  old  Mars- 
ter  Meshach  Milburn,  dat  I'se  leff  so  long,  Virgie  !"  the 
old  pugilist  said,  wiping  his  eyes  of  tears. 

She  began  to  try  to  remember,  but  faces  and  events 
ran  into  each  other,  and  she  felt  aware  that  her  mind 
was  wandering,  but  could  not  bring  it  back  ;  and  so  the 
boat,  sailing  in  sight  of  the  ocean  and  the  stately  ships 
there,  grounded  after  noon  almost  within  sound  of  the  surf. 

Sheltered  in  a  piece  of  woods  for  some  hours,  Virgie 
found  herself,  at  dark,  carried  in  old  Samson's  arms  up  a 
beach  of  the  sea  where  the  sand  was  yielding  and  seldom 
firm,  except  at  the  very  edge  of  the  surf,  which  rolled 
ominously  and  at  times  became  a  roar,  and  often  swept 
to  the  low,  sedgy  bank.  Lightning  played  across  the 
black  sea,  lifting  it  up,  as  it  seemed,  and  showing  vessels 
making  either  out  or  in,  and  finally  thunder  burst  upon 
the  gathering  confusion,  and  Samson  said  : 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  471 

"  Dar's  a  gun  in  clat  thunder !" 

The  next  flash  of  lightning  showed  a  vessel  close  to  the 
shore,  coming  rapidly  in  on  the  southeaster,  and  her  gun 
was  fired  again,  and  feeble  hailing  was  heard  ;  but  the 
storm  now  broke  all  at  once,  and  a  wave  threw  Samson 
to  the  ground  and  nearly  carried  Virgie  back  with  it  to 
the  boiling  sea ;  but  the  faithful  old  man  fought  for  her, 
and  she  ran  at  his  side,  uttering  no  complaint,  till  once, 
as  they  stopped  to  get  breath,  and  the  heavenly  fire  drew 
into  sight  every  foot,  as  it  seemed,  of  that  vast  ocean, 
cannonading  it  also  with  majestic  artillery,  the  girl  sighed, 

"  Freedom  is  beautiful !" 

"Oh,  Virgie,"  Samson  answered,  covering  her  with  his 
own  coat,  "  if  I  could  buy  you  free,  pore  chile,  I'd  a-mos' 
go  into  slavery  to  save  you  from  dis  night." 

"  I  can  die  in  there,"  Virgie  said,  pointing  to  the  waves  ; 
"  they  must  not  catch  me." 

A  wail  came  out  of  the  storm,  so  close  before  that  it 
hushed  them  both,  and  the  lightning  lifted  upon  their 
eyes  a  stranding  vessel,  so  close,  it  seemed,  that  they 
could  touch  it,  and  she  was  full  of  people,  hallooing,  but 
not  in  any  intelligible  tongue. 

As  the  black  night  fell  upon  this  magic-lantern  sketch 
they  heard  a  crash  of  wave  and  wood,  and  falling  spars 
and  awful  shrieks,  and,  when  the  next  vivid  flash  of  light 
ning  came,  nothing  was  visible  but  floating  substance,  and 
spluttering  cries  came  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  sea,  and  a 
black  man,  flung,  as  if  out  of  a  cannon,  upon  a  wave 
that  drenched  these  wanderers,  struck  the  ground  at  their 
feet,  and  looked  into  Samson's  eyes  as  the  convulsion  of 
death  seized  his  chest  and  feet. 

Before  they  could  speak  to  each  other,  the  beach  was 
full  of  similar  corpses,  a  moment  before  alive  as  them 
selves,  and  every  one  was  naked  and  black. 

"  It's  a  slave-ship,  foundered  yer,"  cried  Samson. 

He  caught  at  a  yawl-boat  driving  past  him,  in  the  many 


472  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

things  that  drifted  around  their  feet,  and  Virgie  saw  paint 
ed  upon  its  bow  the  word  "Ida." 

11  Samson,"  she  said,  feeling  all  the  influences  of  Prin 
cess  Anne   again,  and  forgetting  her  own  misery,  "  it's 
Mrs.  Dennis's  husband  come  home  and  shipwrecked." 
*  *  #  #  #  *         .    * 

When  Virgie  next  remembered,  she  was  on  a  vast  hill 
of  sand,  near  a  lighthouse  that  was  built  upon  it,  and 
flashed  its  lenses  sleepily  upon  a  sullen  break  of  day,  the 
mutual  lights  showing  the  tops  of  trees  rising  out  of  the 
sand,  where  a  forest  had  been  buried  alive,  like  little  twigs 
in  amber. 

Almost  naked  with  fighting  the  storm,  Samson  Hat 
slept  at  her  side,  peaceful  as  hale  age  and  virtue  could 
enjoy  the  balm  of  oblivion  in  life. 

"  Happy  are  the  black,"  thought  the  sick  girl,  "  that 
take  no  thought  on  things  this  white  blood  in  me  makes 
so  big :  on  freedom  and  my  father.  Father,  do  love  me 
before  I  die !" 

She  knelt  on  the  great  sand  hillock  by  Cape  Henlopen 
and  prayed  till  she,  too,  lost  her  knowledge  of  self,  and 
was  sleeping  again  at  Samson's  side.  She  dreamed  of 
innumerable  angels  flying  all  around  her,  and  yet  their 
voices  were  so  harsh  they  awoke  her  at  last,  and  still 
these  seraphs  were  flying  in  the  day.  She  saw  their 
wings,  and  moved  the  old  man  at  her  side  to  say, 

"  Samson,  why  cannot  these  angels  sing?" 

The  old  man  looked  up  and  faintly  smiled  : 

"  Poor  Virgie,  dey  is  wild-fowls,  all  bewildered  by  clat 
storm  :  geese  and  swans.  Dey  can't  sing  like  angels." 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl ;  "  something  sings,  I  know.  What 
is  it  ?" 

"Jesus,  maybe,"  the  negro  answered,  looking  at  her,  his 
eyes  full  of  tears. 

#  #  #  *  #  #  * 

The  great  Breakwater,  which  required  forty  years  and 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  473 

nearly  a  million  tons  of  stone  to  build  it,  was  then  just  com 
mencing,  and  where  it  was  to  be,  within  the  shallow  bight 
of  Henlopen,  they  saw  the  wrecks  of  many  vessels,  some 
sunken,  some  shattered  in  collision,  some  stranded  in  the 
marsh,  proving  the  needs1  of  commerce  for  such  a  work, 
and  also  the  fury  of  the  storm  that  had  so  innocently  van 
ished,  like  a  sleeping  tiger  after  his  bloody  meal. 

In  the  gentle  sunshine  floated  the  American  flag  upon 
several  vessels  there — the  flag  that  first  kissed  the  breeze 
upon  that  spot  in  the  year  1776,  when  Esek  Hopkins 
raised  over  the  Alfred  the  dyes  of  the  peach  and  cream 
in  the  centre  of  his  little  squadron.  And  there,  along 
the  low  bluff  of  the  Kill,  still  lay  the  shingle-boarded 
town  of  Lewes,  in  the  torpor  of  nearly  two  hundred 
years,  or  since  the  Dutch  De  Vries  had  settled  it  in 
1631.  Lord  Delaware,  Argall,  and  the  Swede,  Penn, 
Blackbeard,  Paul  Jones,  Lord  Rodney,  a  thousand  heroes, 
had  known  it  well ;  the  pilots,  like  sea-gulls,  had  their 
nests  there ;  the  Marylanders  had  invaded  it,  the  Tories 
had  seized  it,  pirates  had  been  suckled  there  ;  and  now 
the  courts  and  lawyers  had  forsaken  it,  to  go  inland  to 
Georgetown. 

"  Virgie,"  said  Samson,  "  I'll  try  to  buy  some  of  de 
stone-boat  captains  to  carry  you  to  Phildelfy." 

He  waded  the  Kill,  carrying  her,  and  left  her  in  an 
old  Presbyterian  church  at  the  skirt  of  Lewes,  and  pro 
cured  medicine  for  her,  and  then  labored  in  vain  nearly 
all  day  to  get  her  passage  to  a  free  state.  The  reply  was 
invariable  :  "  Can't  take  the  risk  of  the  whippin'-post  and 
pillory  for  no  nigger.  Can't  lose  a  long  job  like  bringin' 
stone  to  the  Breakwater  to  save  one  nigger." 

At  the  hotel  a  colored  man  beckoned  Samson  aside — 
a  fine-looking  man,  of  a  gingerbread  color — and  they  went 
into  the  little  old  disused  court-house,  in  the  middle  of  a 
street,  where  there  was  a  fire. 

"Brother,"  said  the  stranger,  "I  see  by  your  actions 


474  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

that  you're  trying  to  git  a  passage  North.     Is  it  fur  your 
self?" 

"  No,"  Samson  said,  taking  an  inventory  of  the  other's 
fine  chest  and  strength,  and  mentally  wishing  to  have  a 
qhance  at  him  ;  "  I'm  a  free  man,  and  kin  go  anywhere ; 
but  I  have  a  friend." 

"  Why,  old  man,"  spoke  the  other,  frankly,  "  I'm  the 
agent  of  our  society  at  this  pint." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Samson,  warily. 

"The  Protection  Society.  They  educated  me  right 
yer.  I  went  to  school  with  white  boys.  Now,  where  is 
your  friend  ?" 

"  What  kin  you  do  fur  her  ?"  asked  Samson. 

"It's  a  gal,  is  it?  Why,  I  can  just  put  her  in  my  bug 
gy,  made  and  provided  for  the  purpose,  and  drive  her  to 
the  Quaker  settlement." 

"  Where's  that  ?" 

"  Camden— only  thirty  miles  off.  I've  got  free  passes 
all  made  out.  Give  yourself,  brother,  no  more  concern." 

Samson  looked  at  the  handsome  person  long  and  well. 
The  man  stood  the  gaze  modestly. 

"Oh,  if  I  had  some  knowledge!"  spoke  Samson;  "I 
might  as  well  be  a  slave  if  I  know  nothin'.  I  can't  read. 
I  wish  I  could  read  your  heart !" 

"  I  wish  you  could,"  said  the  man  ;  "  then  you  would 
trust  me." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"  Samuel  Ogg." 

"I  want  you  to  hold  up  your  hand  and  swear,  Sam 
Ogg,  that  you  will  never  harm  the  pore  chile  I  bring  you. 
Say, '  Lord,  let  my  body  rot  alive,  an'  no  man  pity  me,  if 
I  don't  act  right  by  her.'  " 

"  It's  a  severe  oath,"  said  the  stranger,  "but  I  see  your 
kind  interest  in  the  lady.  Indeed,  I'm  only  doing  my 
duty." 

He  repeated  the  words,  however,  and  Samson  added, 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  475 

"  God  deal  with  you,  Sam  Ogg,  as  you  keep  clat  oath. 
Now  come  with  me  !" 

The  girl  was  found  asleep,  but  delirious,  her  large  eyes, 
in  which  the  blue  and  brown  tints  met  in  a  kind  of  lake 
color,  being  wide  open,  and  almost  lost  in  their  long  lash 
es,  while  flood  and  fire,  sun  and  frost,  had  beaten  upon 
the  slender  encasement  of  her  gentle  life,  that  still  kept 
time  like  some  Parian  clock  saved  from  a  conflagration, 
in  whose  crystal  pane  the  golden  pendulum  still  moves, 
though  the  hands  point  astray  in  the  mutilated  face. 

Her  teeth  were  shown  through  the  loving  lips  she  part 
ed  in  her  stormy  dreams,  like  waves  tossing  the  alabaster 
sails  of  the  nautilus,  or  like  some  ear  of  Indian  corn  ex 
posed  in  the  gale  that  blows  across  the  tasselled  field. 

Her  raiment,  partly  torn  from  her,  showed  her  supple 
figure  and  neck,  and,  beneath  her  mass  of  silky  hair, 
her  white  arm,  like  an  ivory  serpent,  sustained  her  head, 
her  handsome  feet  being  fine  and  high-bred,  like  the  soul 
that  bounded  in  her  maiden  ambition. 

There  had  been  days  when  such  as  she  called  Antony 
away  from  his  wife,  and  Qesar  from  his  classical  selfish 
ness  ;  when  on  many  an  Eastern  throne  such  beauty  as 
this  stirred  to  murmurous  glory  armies  beyond  compute, 
and  clashed  the  cymbals  of  prodigious  conquests.  She 
lay  upon  the  altar-cushions  of  the  church,  like  young 
Isaac  upon  his  father's  altar,  and  where  the  mourners 
knelt  to  pray  for  God's  reconcilement,  the  cruelty  of 
their  law  flashed  over  her  like  Abraham's  superstitious 
knife. 

Priceless  was  this  young  creature,  in  noble  hands,  as 
wife  or  daughter,  human  food  or  fair  divinity,  and  all  the 
precious  mysteries  of  woman  awake  in  her  to  love  and 
conjugality,  like  song  and  seed  in  the  spring  bird ;  yet  a 
hard,  steely  prejudice  had  shut  her  out  from  every  insti 
tution  and  equality,  let  every  crime  be  perpetrated  upon 
her,  made  the  scent  of  freedom  in  her  nostrils  worse  than 


47^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

the  incentive  of  the  thief,  and  has  outlasted  her  half  a 
century,  and  is  self-righteous  and  inflexible  yet. 

In  that  old  churchyard  that  enclosed  her  slept  revo 
lutionary  officers,  who  helped  to  gain  freedom  :  they  might 
be  willing  to  rise  with  her,  not  to  be  buried  in  the  same 
enclosure. 

How  small  is  religion,  how  false  democracy,  how  far  off 
are  the  judgments  of  heaven  !  There  stood  over  the  pul 
pit  an  inscription,  itself  presumptuous  with  aristocracy, 
saying,  "  The  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first ;"  as  if  those 
truly  dead  in  the  humility  of  Christ  would  not  prefer  to 
rise  last ! 

Samson  watched  his  new  friend  narrowly,  whose  coun 
tenance  was  profoundly  piteous,  and  his  teeth  and  lip 
made  a  "  Tut-tut !"  Satisfied  with  the  man,  Samson 
knelt  by  Virgie  and  kissed  her  once. 

"Pore  rose  of  slavery,"  said  Samson,  "forgive  me  dat 
I  courted  you  like  a  gal,  instead  of  like  an  angel.  I  am 
old,  and  ashamed  of  myself.  Dear,  draggled  flower,  we 
may  never  meet  agin.  May  the  Lord,  if  dis  is  his  holy 
temple,  save  you  pure  and  find  you  a  home,Virgie.  Good 
bye  I" 

"Come,"  said  the  man,  as  Samson  sat  bowed  and 
weeping,  "  the  buggy  is  ready ;  I'll  wrap  you  warm, 
Miss." 

"Freedom!"  spoke  the  girl,  awakening;  "oh,  I  must 
find  it." 

******* 

The  next  that  Virgie  knew,  she  was  in  a  cabin  loft,  and 
voices  were  heard  speaking  in  a  room  below. 

"  See  me  !"  said  one  ;  "  we  sell  you,  dat's  sho' !  See 
me  now !  You  make  de  best  of  it.  Sam  Ogg  yer,  we 
sold  twenty-two  times.  Sam  will  be  sold  wicl  you  and 
teach  yo'  de  Murrell  game." 

"  Politely,  gentlemen,"  said  a  feminine  voice;  "I  don't 
know  that  I  have  the  nerve  for  it.  My  occupation  has 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  477 

been  marrying  them.  It  is  true  that  the  hue-and-cry  has 
made  that  branch  dull,  but  I  had  great  talent  for  it." 

"  Kidnapping,"  said  a  third  voice,  "  is  running  low.  It 
surrounds  the  whole  slave  belt  from  Illinois  to  Delaware. 
The  laws  of  Illinois  were  made  in  our  interests  till  Gov 
ernor  Harrison,  whose  free  man  was  kidnapped,  raised 
an  excitement  out  there  six  years  ago.  Newt  Wright, 
Joe  O'Neal,  and  Abe  Thomas  were  the  smartest  kidnap 
pers  along  the  Kentucky  line.  But  Joe  Johnson,  who  is 
getting  ready  to  go  south,  will  be  the  last  man  of  enter 
prise  in  the  business.  John  A.  Murrell's  idea  is  to  divide 
fair  with  black  men,  sell  and  steal  them  back,  and  I  think 
it  is  sagacious.  It's  safer,  any  way,  than  Patty  Cannon's 
other  plan." 

"What  is  that,  Mr.  Ogg?"  said  the  feminine-voiced 
negro. 

"  Making  away  with  the  negro-traders,  they  say." 

"  See  me  !  see  me  !"  exclaimed  the  first  voice.  "  Dey'll 
hang  her  some  day  fur  dat." 

"Now,"  resumed  Mr.  Ogg,  "a  man  of  intelligence 
like  you  and  me,  Mr.  Ransom — pardon,  sir,  does  your 
shackle  incommode  you  ?  I'll  stuff  it  with  some  wool — " 

"  Politely,  Mr.  Ogg  ;  I'm  ironed  rather  too  tight." 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Ransom,  you  and  I  can  always  play  the 
average  slaveholder  for  a  fool.  Why,  I  hardly  get  into 
any  family  before  I  make  love  to  some  member  of  it,  and 
if  I  don't  vamose  with  a  black  wench,  it's  with  her  mis 
tress." 

"Ah,  Mr.  Ogg,  they  are  perfectly  fiendish  in  resenting 
thatr 

"  Of  course,  but  there's  a  grand  tit-for-tat  going  through 
all  nature.  Why,  sir,  the  pleasures  of  the  far  South,  to  a 
man  of  art  and  enterprise  like  you,  far  exceed  this  poor, 
plain  region.  Take  the  roof  off  slavery  and  the  blacks 
have  rather  the  best  of  it ;  the  whites  would  think  so  if 
they  could  see  what  is  going  on." 


478  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Politely,  Mr.  Ogg;  will  not  the  entire  institution  some 
day  blow  itself  out,  like  one  of  their  Western  steamboats  ?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  Mr.  Ransom.  When  we  have  dis 
posed  of  you,  and  you  can  see  the  country  for  yourself,  ob 
serve  how  sensitive  slaveholding  is !  A  thousand  anxie 
ties  lie  in  it.  They  believe  in  insurrections,  rapes,  and 
incendiaries.  A  perfect  sleep  they  hardly  know,  but  go 
prowling  around  night  and  day,  driven  by  their  suspi 
cions.  It  makes  them  warlike,  yet  unhappy,  and  the 
slaves  eat  the  ground  poor.  Besides,  they  have  terrible 
enemies  in  the  negro-traders,  whom  they  look  down  on 
socially,  and  really  drive  them  into  sympathy  with  the 
negroes.  Mr.  Murrell,  for  instance,  has  a  grand  plan  for 
a  slave  insurrection.  He  says  white  society  is  all  against 
him,  and  he'll  get  even  with  it." 

"  See  me,  see  me !"  hoarsely  chimed  in  another  voice. 
"  Slavery  is  bad  scared,  sho' !  Joe  Leonard  Smith,  Cath 
olic,  over  on  de  western  sho',  has  jess  set  twelve  niggers 
free.  Governor  Charley  Riclgely  has  set  two  hundred 
and  fifty  free.  John  Randolph,  dey  say,  is  gwyn  to  set 
more  dan  three  hundred  free.  Dar's  fifty  abolition  socie 
ties  in  Nawf  Carolina,  eleven  in  Maryland,  eight  in  ole 
Virginny,  two  in  Delaware.  Ho,  ho !  dey  set  'em  free 
and  we'll  steal  'em  back !  Ole  Derrick  Molleston  will 
never  be  out  of  pork  an'  money !" 

"Politely,  gentlemen,"  said  the  individual  with  the 
shackle.  "  Have  you  heard  of  the  incendiary  proclama 
tion  issued  in  Boston  by  David  Walker,  telling  all  slaves 
that  it  is  their  religious  duty  to  rise  ?" 

"Yes,  and  rise  they  will,  but  to  what  end?  It  will  be 
a  big  scare,  but  no  war.  The  next  thing  they  will  stop 
reading  among  all  slaves,  prevent  emancipation  by  law, 
and  watch  the  colored  meeting-houses.  The  fire  will  be 
buried  under  the  amount  of  the  fuel,  yet  all  be  there."* 

*  The  Nat  Turner  insurrection  in  Virginia  occurred  a  year  or 
thereabout  later  than  this  time. 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  479 

"  Mr.  Ogg,  your  experience  is  remarkable.  And  you 
have  been  sold  and  run  away  in  nearly  every  slave  state? 
Politely,  sir,  are  they  not  kidnapping  white  men,  too  ? 
Who  is  this  Morgan  that  was  stolen  last  year  in  the  State 
of  New  York  ?" 

"  Oh,  that's  a  renegade  Free  Mason,  Mr.  Ransom.  As 
much  fuss  is  made  over  him  as  if  we  did  not  steal  a  hun 
dred  free  people  every  day.  It  only  shows  that  kidnap 
ping  of  all  sorts  is  getting  to  be  unpopular.  If  a  new 
political  party  can  be  made  on  stealing  one  white  Mor 
gan,  don't  you  think  another  party  will  some  day  rise  on 
stealing  several  millions  of  black  Morgans  ?" 

"  See  me !  see  me  !"  exclaimed  the  hoarse  voice,  sud 
denly. 

"  Escaping,  are  you  ?"  cried  the  second  voice. 

"Politely,  gentlemen,  politely!"  was  heard  from  the 
third  voice,  some  distance  off  in  the  dark,  and  then  chas 
ing  footsteps  followed,  and  Virgie  arose  and  peeped  below. 

A  fire  was  burning  in  a  clay  chimney  beside  a  table, 
on  which  were  meat  and  liquor.  The  girl  swung  herself 
out  of  the  loft  to  the  ground-floor,  and,  seizing  the  meat 
and  bread,  rushed  noiselessly  into  the  night. 

She  hardly  knew  what  she  was  doing  until  she  had 
crossed  a  bridge  and  come  to  the  edge  of  a  small  town, 
around  which  she  took  a  road  to  the  right  that  led  into 
another  country  road,  and  this  she  followed  a  mile  or 
more,  till  she  saw  a  small  brick  house,  by  a  stile  and  pole- 
well,  in  the  edge  of  woods. 

The  light  from  a  little  dormer-window  in  the  garret 
beamed  so  brightly  that  it  charmed  Virgie's  soul  with  the 
fascination  of  warmth  and  home,  and,  without  thinking, 
she  crossed  the  stile,  bathed  her  hot  temples  at  the  well, 
and  walked  into  the  kitchen  before  the  fire. 

"  Freedom  !"  said  Virgie,  wanderingly ;  "  have  I  come 
to  it  ?"  She  fell  upon  the  rag  carpet  before  the  fire,  say 
ing,  "  Father,  dear  father,"  and  did  not  move. 


480  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"Well,"  spoke  a  man  of  large  paunch  and  black 
snake's  eyes,  sitting  there,  "  it's  not  often  people  in  search 
of  freedom  walk  into  Devil  Jim  Clark's  !" 

"  She  is  white,"  exclaimed  a  woman,  looking  compas 
sionately  upon  the  stranger,  "and  she  is  dying." 

"  No,"  retorted  the  man,  "  she  is  too  pretty  to  be  white. 
This  is  the  bright  wench  Sam  Ogg  was  seen  with.  She 
belongs  to  Allan  McLane,  and  there's  a  reward  of  five 
hundred  dollars  for  her,  but  she'll  bring  two  thousand  in 
New  Orleans  for  a  mistress." 

"Hush  !"  said  the  woman  ;  "you  may  bring  a  judgment 
upon  your  daughters." 

"Joe  Johnson  is  about  to  sail,"  remarked  Devil  Jim 
Clark;  "he  shall  take  her  with  him." 

The  girl  had  heard  that  name  through  the  thick  cham 
bers  of  oblivion.  She  rose  and  shrieked,  and  rushed 
into  the  woman's  arms  : 

"  Save  me,  mother,  save  me  from  that  man  !" 

The  woman's  heart  was  pierced  by  the  cry,  and  she 
folded  Virgie  to  her  breast  and  kissed  her,  saying : 

"  She  shall  sleep  in  our  daughter's  bed  and  rest  her 
poor  feet  this  night — our  daughter,  James,  that  we  bur 
ied." 

The  man's  mouth  puckered  a  little ;  he  looked  uneasy, 
and  drew  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes. 

"  You're  all  agin  me  !  you're  all  agin  me  !"  he  bellowed, 
and  rushed  from  the  room. 

*  #  =*  *  *  *  # 

The  wife  of  Devil  Jim  Clark  was  a  pious  Methodist, 
and,  with  her  rich-eyed  daughter,  spent  the  next  day  at 
Virgie's  bedside,  hearing  her  broken  mutterings  for  father 
ly  love  and  Vesta's  cherished  remembrance. 

"Your  father  is  out  for  mischief,"  Mrs.  Clark  said. 
"Jump  on  your  saddle-horse,  my  daughter,  and  ride  to 
the  Widow  Brinkley's,  just  over  the  Camden  line.  Tell 
her  to  send  for  this  girl." 


481 

"Mamma,  they  say  she's  an  abolitionist." 

"  That's  what  I  send  you  for.  It's  a  race  between  you 
and  your  father.  Be  with  me  or  with  him  !" 

The  girl  tied  on  her  hood,  took  her  riding- whip,  and 
departed. 

In  an  hour  she  returned  with  a  tidy  black  woman,  whom 
Mrs.  Clark  took  into  Virgie's  chamber. 

"  My  heart  bleeds  for  this  poor  girl,"  the  hostess  said. 
"  They  say  your  son  spirits  negroes  North.  Mr.  Clark 
says  so.  I  do  not  ask  you  if  it  is  true,  but,  as  one  moth 
er  to  another,  I  give  you  this  girl.  She  is  too  white  to  be 
sold.  She  looks  like  a  dead  child  of  mine.'" 

"  Bill  is  not  due  home  till  sunset.  If  she  is  alive  by 
that  time,  he  has  just  time  to  drive  her  to  Mr.  Zeke  Hunn's 
vessel  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  which  lies  there  every 
trip  one  hour — " 

"  To  let  runaways  come  aboard  ?" 

"  I  have  never  been  accused  of  helping  them,  Mrs. 
Clark." 

The  trader's  wife  slipped  a  bank-bill  into  the  colored 
woman's  hand. 

"  Lend  to  the  Lord  !"  she  said.  "  I  depend  upon  you 
to  save  us  the  sin  of  selling  this  girl." 

*  ****** 

There  came  to  the  little  black  house  that  lurked  by  the 
woods  two  riding-horses,  and  stopped  at  the  stile. 

"Wait  here!"  said  the  voice  of  Devil  Jim  Clark. 
"  Will  you  take  her  if  she  is  still  delirious  ?" 

"Bingavast!  Why  not?  I'm  delirious  myself,  Jim, 
fur  it's  my  wedding-night.  I'll  rest  her  at  Punch  Hall." 

The  herculean  ruffian  coolly  proceeded  to  prepare  some 
saddle-ropes  to  tie  his  victim  before  him  on  his  horse.  He 
was  interrupted  by  a  woman  : 

"Come  and  see  your  work, Joe  Johnson!" 

Following  up  the  short  cupboard  stairs,  the  kidnapper 
was  pointed  to  an  object  on  the  bed,  with  peaked  face 
31 


482  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

and  sharpened  feet,  as  it  lay  white  as  lime,  with  eyelashes 
folded  and  the  arms  drawn  to  its  sides. 

"Take  her  to  Patty  Cannon  now,"  said  Mrs.  Clark, 
"  who  is  only  fit  for  dead  company." 

"  The  dell  dead  arid  undocked  ?"  the  ruffian  exclaimed, 
slightly  shrinking  from  the  body;  "maybe  she's  coun 
terfeited  the  cranke.  I'll  search  her  cly.  But,  hark  !" 

A  wagon  and  hoofs  were  heard. 

"Joe,"  whispered  the  woman's  husband,  "  you're  only 
four  mile  from  Dover.  Maybe  it's  warrants  for  both  of 
us  ?" 

"  Hike,  then  !"  hissed  the  pallid  murderer  ;  "  the  world's 
agin  me,"  and  he  slipped  away  with  his  companion. 
*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

"Now, Bill  Brinkley,"  the  wife  of  Devil  Jim  whispered, 
as  a  tall,  ingenuous-looking  colored  boy  came  in  the  room, 
"you  are  just  in  time.  She  has  had  laudanum  enough 
to  keep  her  still ;  my  daughter  powdered  her;  let  me  kiss 
her  once  before  she  goes." 

As  the  woman  departed,  the  black  boy,  looking  around 
him,  muttered : 

"  Whar  is  dat  loft  ?     I've  hearn  about  it." 

Some  movements  overhead  in  the  low  dwelling  directed 
his  attention  to  a  small  trap-door,  and,  standing  on  a  stool, 
he  unbolted  it  and  pushed  it  upwards,  whispering, 

"  Any  passengers  for  Philadelfy  ?  De  gangplank's 
bein'  pulled  in !" 

First  a  woolly  head,  then  another,  and  next  two  pairs 
of  legs  appeared  above. 

"  Take  hold  yer  and  carry  de  sick  woman  to  de  dear 
born,"  the  boy  said,  not  a  particle  disturbed,  as  two 
frightened  blacks  dropped  from  the  loft,  with  handcuffs 
upon  them. 

******* 

In  the  clear  evening  a  wagon  sped  along  towards  the 
east,  through  the  saffron  marshes,  tramping  down  the 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  483 

stickweed  and  ironweed  and  the  golden  rod,  and,  while 
the  people  in  it  cowered  close,  the  negro  driver  sang,  as 
carelessly  as  if  he  was  the  lord  of  the  country : 

"  De  people  of  Tuckyhoe 

Dey  is  so  lazy  an'  loose, 
Dey  sows  no  buttons  upon  cleir  clothes, 

And  goes  widout  deir  use  ; 
So  nature  she  gib  dem  buttons, 

To  grow  right  outen  deir  hides, 
Dat  dey  may  take  life  easy, 

And  buy  no  buttons  besides. 

"  But  de  people  of  Tuckyhoe 

Refuse  to  button  deir  warts, 
Unless  dey's  paid  a  salary 

For  practisin'  of  sech  arts  ; 
Like  de  militia  sogers, 

Dat  runs  to  buttons  an'  pay, 
De  folks  is  truly  shifless, 

On  Tuckyhoe  side  of  de  bay." 

A  sail  was  seen  in  the  starlight,  rising  out  of  the 
marshes  at  an  old  landing  in  the  last  elbow  of  Jones's 
Creek,  and  hardly  had  the  fugitives  been  put  on  board 
when  the  anchor  was  weighed  and  the  packet  stood  out 
for  the  broad  Delaware,  her  captain  a  negro,  her  owner  a 
Quaker. 

The  girl  was  awakened  by  the  cold  air  of  the  bay  strik 
ing  her  face. 

"  Freedom  !"  she  murmured  ;  "  it  must  be  this.  Oh,  I 
am  faint  for  father's  arms  to  take  me." 

*  *  =*  *  #  *  * 

Was  this  Teackle  Hall  that  Virgie  looked  upon — a 
square,  bright  room,  and  her  bed  beside  a  window,  and 
below  her  stretching  streets  of  cobblestone  and  brick, 
and  roofs  of  houses,  to  green  marshes  rilled  with  cows, 
and  a  river  that  seemed  blue  as  heaven,  which  sipped  it 
from  above  like  a  boy  drinking  head  downward  in  a  spring? 
How  beautiful !  It  must  be  freedom,  Virgie  thought,  but 


484  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

why  was  she  so  cold?  Her  eyes,  looking  around  the 
room,  fell  upon  a  lady  in  a  cap,  reading  a  tract  to  a  large, 
shaven,  square-jawed  man,  and  this  woman  was  of  a  silver 
kind  of  beauty,  as  if  her  mind  had  overflowed  into  her 
heart,  and,  not  affecting  it,  had  made  her  face  of  argent 
and  lily,  milk  and  sheen. 

"  What  sayeth  Brother  Elias,  Lucretia  ?" 

"He  sayeth,  Thomas:  'This  noble  testimony,  of  re 
fusing  to  partake  of  the  spoils  of  oppression,  lies  with  the 
dearly  beloved  young  people  of  this  day.  We  can  look 
for  but  little  from  the  aged,  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
these  things,  like  second  nature.  Without  justice  there 
can  be  no  virtue.  Oh,  justice,  justice,  how  art  thou  abused 
everywhere  !  Men  make  justice,  like  a  nose  of  wax,  to 
satisfy  their  desires.  If  the  soul  is  possessed  of  love, 
there  is  quietness.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  girl,  from  the  bed,  thinking  aloud ; 
"  love  is  quietness.  Will  father  come  !" 

She  dreamed  and  heard  and  looked  forth  again  upon 
the  hill  descending  to  the  river,  the  stately  sails,  the  far 
ther  shore,  so  like  her  native  region,  and  asked  with  her 
eyes  what  land  they  might  be  in. 

"  Wilmington,"  said  the  beautiful  woman.  "  This  is  the 
house  of  Thomas  Garrett,  the  friend  of  slaves.  W7hen 
you  can  be  moved,  it  shall  be  to  the  green  hills  of  the 
Brandywine,  where  all  are  free." 

"  Hills  ?  What  are  they  ?"  mused  Virgie,  looking  at 
her  wasted  hand.  "  Must  I  climb  any  more  ?  Must  I 
wade  the  swamps  again  ?  I  know  I  have  a  father  some 
where." 

She  dreamed  and  wept  unconsciously,  and  told  of  many 
things  at  Teackle  Hall,  being,  indeed,  a  little  child  again, 
playing  with  her  little  mistress,  Vesta.  The  stars  stood 
in  the  sky  right  over  her  pillow,  and  she  talked  to  them, 
and  some  she  seemed  to  know,  as  little  Vince,  or  little 
Roxy,  or  Master  Willy  Tilghman,  all  playmates  of  her 


VIRGIE'S  FLIGHT.  485 

childhood ;  but  ever  and  anon  these  vanished,  and  the 
young  Quaker  woman  was  reading  again  from  the  ser 
mons  of  Elias  Hicks,  and  the  words  were  :  "  Love  is  quiet 
ness  ;"  "  Light  only  can  qualify  the  soul ;"  "  If  I  go  not 
away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you." 

"What  Comforter?"  sighed  Virgie,  and  there  seemed 
a  great  blank,  and  then  she  heard  a  scream — was  it  she 
that  screamed  so? — and  she  was  trying  with  all  her  might 
to  get  somewhere,  and  was  fainting  in  the  labor,  but  try 
ing  again  and  again,  and  then  a  calmness  that  was  like 
gentle  awe,  strange  because  so  painless,  spread  into  her 
nature,  and  she  only  listened. 

"My  daughter,"  said  a  voice,  "my  own  child!  Call 
me  '  father,'  and  say  I  am  forgiven." 

"  Father  !  forgiven  !"  she  murmured,  and  felt  a  warm 
face,  that  yet  could  not  warm  her  own,  shedding  tears  and 
kissing  her,  and  close  to  it  her  arms  were  thrown  tight, 
as  if  she  never  could  let  go,  and  everything  was  music, 
but  wonderful. 

She  feared  she  must  fall  if  she  did  not  hold  to  him. 
Who  was  it  that  called  her  "  daughter "?  Why  came 
those  cold  stars  so  close,  as  if  to  spy  upon  him  ? 

Oh,  holy  purity,  that  held  so  fast  and  did  not  know,  but 
trusted  nature's  quivering  embrace !  She  wrestled  with 
something,  like  a  rock  of  ice,  to  move  her  eyes  and  see,  or 
ere  she  was  dashed  down  forever,  the  eyes  that  gushed 
for  her.  They  were  her  master's. 

"Master,"  she  said,  "whose  am  I?" 

"Mine  before  God.  Pure  to  my  heart  as  your  white 
sister,  Vesta !  White  as  young  love,  in  fondness  and 
trust  forever !" 

"And  mother?"  gurgled  the  girl's  low  notes;  "where 
is  she  ?" 

"Yonder,"  said  the  Judge,  "in  Heaven,  that  will  judge 
me,  whither  she  winged  in  bearing  thee  to  me !" 

A  happy  light  came  over  Virgie's  face.     She  kissed 


486  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

her  father  twice,  as  if  the  second  kiss  was  meant  for  her 
happier  sister,  and,  raising  her  arms  towards  the  sky  he 
pointed  to,  whispered,  "  Freedom  !"  and  died  upon  his 
breast. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

HULDA    BELEAGUERED. 

OWEN  DAW  brought  the  news  of  the  repulse  from  Cow- 
gill  House  and  the  wounding  of  Captain  Van  Dorn. 

"  Where  is  the  little  tacker,  Levin  ?"  asked  Patty  Can 
non,  furiously. 

"  Arrested,  I  'spect," cried  O'Day,  boldly ;  "Van  Dorn's 
hit  in  the  throat." 

"  He'll  not  talk  much,  then,"  muttered  the  woman  ; 
"  his  time  had  to  come.  Where  will  I  find  another  lover 
at  my  age  ?  Why,  honey,"  she  chuckled  to  herself,  in  a 
looking-glass,  "that  son  of  his'n  may  come  back.  He's 
took  a  shine  to  Huldy  :  why  not  to  me  ?" 

At  the  idea  another  hideous  thouglit  came  to  her  mind  : 
to  settle  Hulda's  fate  in  her  young  lover's  absence,  and 
monopolize  the  corrupting  power  over  Levin  Dennis,  if 
he  ever  lived  to  see  Johnson's  Cross-roads  again. 

As  individual  fugitives  returned,  confirming  the  deci 
sive  repulse  of  the  band,  Patty  Cannon's  face  grew  dark, 
and  her  oaths  low  and  deep ;  Cyrus  James  heard  her 
say  : 

"If  I  could  only  hang  some  one  for  this!  Joe  John 
son's  the  white-livered  sneak  that  would  not  go.  I've 
hanged  a  better  son-in-law." 

"  Aunt  Patty,  I  love  your  grandchild,  Huldy,"  Cy  James 
ventured  to  say.  "The  Captain's  wounded  and  Joe's  go 
ing  away  to  Floricly.  Maybe  I  kin  git  you  up  another 
band." 

Without  an  instant's  consideration  of  this  ambitious 


HULDA    BELEAGUERED.  487 

proposition,  Mrs.  Cannon  threw  Cy  James,  by  main 
strength,  through  the  window  of  her  bar,  into  her  kitchen, 
and  he  bawled  like  a  baby,  yet  came  out  of  his  grief  mut 
tering,  "Ploughing  ploughin'!  I'll  make  her  into  batter 
and  fry  her  yet." 

With  this  reflection  Mr.  James  hid  himself  for  the  re 
mainder  of  the  afternoon  in  some  secluded  part  of  the 
Hotel  Johnson. 

Mrs.  Cannon,  however,  had  instantly  resumed  her  mon 
ologue  on  business. 

"  They  all  think  to  give  the  old  woman  the  go-by :  a 
sick  man's  no  good,  and  there's  that  wife  of  Van  Dorn's 
hopin'  to  git  him  yit.  By  God  !  she  sha'n't  have  him  in 
his  shroud.  No  ;  I'll  recruit  from  young  material.  Ruin 
'em  when  they's  boys,  and,  while  you  kin  pet  'em,  they'll 
do  your  work  !  I  have  one  nigger  in  the  garret  Joe  wants 
to  burn  :  he's  my  nigger,  and  I'll  let  him  loose  to  bring 
me  more  niggers.  Money  is  what  I  need  to  put  on  a  bold 
front:  Huldy  must  fetch  it!" 

With  this  resolution  Patty  Cannon  mounted  the  stairs 
to  a  room  on  the  second  floor,  and,  without  knocking, 
pushed  her  way  in. 

A  man  of  a  voluptuous  form  and  face,  like  one  overfed, 
yet  on  the  best,  and  with  stiff,  military  shoulders,  and  of 
colors  warm  in  tint,  yet  cold  in  expression,  blue  eyes,  and 
rich,  wine-lined  cheeks  and  lips,  that  still  seemed  hard 
and  self-indulged,  spoke  up  at  once  : 

"  Always  knock,  Patty !  it's  more  conservative.  My 
way  in  life  is  to  reach  my  point,  but  respect  all  the  forms. 
What  do  you  want  ?'" 

"When  do  you  leave  for  Baltimore,  Cunnil  McLane?" 

"  As  soon  as  Joe  returns  with  my  dear  sister's  proper 
ty  :  to-morrow,  I  hope." 

"  You  can  take  Huldy  Bruington  if  you  pay  my  price 
for  her:  two  thousand  dollars  down.  If  you  won't  give 
it,  she  shall  be  married  to  some  young  kidnapper,  who 


488  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

will  fetch  twice  that  pile  for  her  in  niggers.  They'll  all 
fight  their  weight  in  black  wildcats  to  git  her." 

"Very,  very  abrupt  proposition,  Patty;  not  conserva 
tive  at  all.  What's  the  matter  with  you,  dame,  to-day. 
Van  Dorn  not  lucky,  heigh  ?" 

He  gave  her  a  vitreous  smile  and  watched  her  over 
his  round  paunch,  on  which  a  crystal  watch-seal  hung, 
like  a  more  human  eye  than  his  own.  Her  color  began 
to  rise. 

"I'm  mad,"  said  Patty  Cannon;  "don't  worry  me; 
don't  Jew  me  !  Do  you  mind  ?  Yes,  Van  Dorn  has  been 
whipped — by  niggers,  too.  Will  you  pay  my  price  or  not  ?" 

"Tut,  tut,  good  woman!  What  can  I  want  with  a 
white  girl.  It  wouldn't  look  conservative  at  all  in  Balti 
more." 

Patty  Cannon  stamped  her  foot. 

"  Don't  rouse  me  with  any  of  your  hypocritical  cant, 
Cunnil  McLane  !  What  have  you  been  teachin'  that 
child  to  read  an'  write  fur — out  of  your  Bible,  too  ?  What 
do  you  bring  her  presents  fur,  and  hang  around  us  when 
we  know  you  despise  us  all,  except  fur  the  black  folks  we 
can  sell  you  cheap?  Haven't  I  been  sold  to  men  like 
you  time  and  again  before  I  was  a  woman,  and  don't  I 
know  the  sneaking  pains  that  old  men  take  to  look  be 
nevolent  when  youth  an'  beauty  is  fur  sale  ;  and  how  they 
pet  it  to  keep  it  pure  fur  their  own  selfish  enjoyment  ? 
God  knows  I  do  !" 

"Patty,  you  shock  me !"  the  rubicund  gentleman  ob 
served.  "  I  have  always  found  you  conservative  before. 
Now,  go  and  send  sweet  Hulda  here,  and,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  Patty,  don't  reveal  this  bargain  to  her." 

"  Is  it  a  bargain,  Cunnil  ?" 

"It  is,  if  she  can  be  made  willing  to  it." 

"That  she  shall,  or  make  her  bed  in  the  forest,  where 
good  looks  are  not  safe  around  yer." 

Hulda  was  found  at  a  window,  looking  out  upon  her 


HULDA    BELEAGUERED.  489 

former  home,  and  at  a  ploughman  who  had  nearly  com 
pleted  the  furrows  in  a  large  field,  sparing  only  some  low 
places  piled  with  brush,  over  one  of  which  some  buzzards 
circled,  lofty,  yet  intent  as  anglers  watching  their  tackle. 
Hard  as  that  home  had  been  to  Hulda,  she  regretted 
leaving  it  for  this  men's  tavern,  where  her  grandmother's 
saucy  temperament  found  so  many  incentives  to  bravado, 
and  her  caution,  that  had  to  be  exercised  in  Delaware, 
was  quite  unnecessary  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the 
line. 

At  the  little  hip-roofed  white  cottage  Hulda  had  felt  a 
sense  of  privacy  pleasing  to  her  growing  life,  and  her 
ability  to  read  often  charmed  Patty  Cannon  to  a  stillness 
that  was  like  the  hyena's  sleep,  and  even  made  her  ac 
quiescent  and  cordial. 

But  where  she  met  men  alone,  unmodified  by  modest 
women's  example,  the  bold  tendency  of  Patty  was  to  out 
do  men,  and  lead  them  on  to  audacities  they  would  have 
feared  to  follow  in  but  for  her  courage  and  policy ;  for 
she  could  coax  either  young  or  coarse  natures,  as  well  as 
she  could  drive. 

These  feats  of  strength  and  cunning,  statecraft  and  des 
peration,  reminded  Hulda  of  a  book  she  had  read  about 
the  Norman  knights  in  England  kidnapping  and  robbing 
the  poor  Saxons ;  and  one  description  of  King  William 
the  Conqueror  suggested  to  Hulda  that  he  was  perhaps 
a  Patty  Cannon  in  his  times,  as  his  body  and  legs  were 
short  and  powerful,  like  hers,  and  he  could  bend  a  bow 
riding  on  horseback  that  no  other  knight  could  bend  on 
foot  with  the  legs  planted  firmly.  He  could  not  read  nor 
write,  and  was  superstitious,  yet  cruel  as  the  grave.  All 
this  was  true  of  Patty  Cannon,  whose  feat  of  standing  in 
a  bushel  measure  and  putting  three  hundred  pounds  of 
grain  on  her  shoulder  has  been  related. 

She  often  wrestled  and  bound,  without  assistance,  strong 
black  men  fighting  for  their  liberties.  She  could  ride 


490  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

horseback,  sitting  like  men,  in  a  way  to  make  Joan  of  Arc 
seem  a  maid  of  mere  tinsel. 

Hulda  was  dressed  in  her  best  clothes,  her  hair  was 
tied  in  wide  braids,  her  fine  features  and  large,  tender, 
yet  seeking,  gray  eyes,  never  had  been  turned  on  Patty 
Cannon  so  directly. 

Her  grandmother  abandoned  in  a  moment  an  attempt 
to  be  complaisant,  and  sternly  ordered  her  to  attend  to 
Colonel  McLane's  chamber. 

"  I  can  support  you  no  longer,  huzzy,"  said  the  dark- 
eyed  woman,  her  cheeks  full  of  blood.  "  Make  haste  to 
find  some  easy  life  or  Joe  shall  get  you  a  husband.  We 
are  ruined.  You  must  make  money,  do  you  hear !" 

"Here  is  money,  grandma!"  said  Hulcla,  producing 
some  of  the  shillings  of  1815. 

At  the  first  glance  of  these  Patty  Cannon  turned  pale, 
but,  in  an  instant,  the  hot  blood  rushed  to  her  face  again, 
and  she  swore  a  dreadful  oath  and  chased  Hulcla,  with 
uplifted  hands,  into  the  chamber  of  Allan  McLane. 

"  Ah,  Hulda,  inflaming  your  poor  grandmother  again  !" 
said  that  carefully  clad  and  game-fed  gentleman.  "  Now, 
now,  lovely  girl,  it's  not  conservative.  Honor  thy  father 
and  mother,  and  grandmother,  of  course ;  didn't  I  teach 
you  that?" 

"What  is  it  to  be  conservative?"  Hulda  asked,  sitting 
before  the  fire,  while  the  Colonel  ran  over  her  straight 
feet  and  tall,  willowy  figure,  and  stopped,  a  little  chilled 
by  her  clear,  dewy  eyes. 

"  Conservative  ?  why,  it's  never  to  rush  on  anything ; 
to  oppose  rushing;  to  —  to  be  a  bulwark  against  in 
novations.  To  prefer  something  you  have  tried,  and 
know." 

"Like  you?"  asked  Hulda. 

"Yes,  your  benefactor,  instead  of  having  some  impul 
sive  passion.  Of  course,  you  never  loved  in  this  place  ?" 

"  It  is  the  only  place  I  know.     To  be  conservative,  as 


HULDA    BELEAGUERED.  491 

you  call  it,  I  must  take  my  life  and  opportunity  as  I  find 
them,  like  something  I  have  tried  and  know." 

"Ah,  Hulda!  I  see  you  have  a  radical,  perverse  some 
thing  in  you,  to  twist  my  meaning  so  close.  You  do  not 
belong  to  this  vile  spot,  except  by  consanguinity.  It 
would  be  perfectly  conservative  for  you  to  look  to  a  bet 
ter  settlement." 

"  You  have  hinted  that  before,"  Hulda  said,  serene  in 
his  presence  as  a  young  woman  used  to  proposals.  "  I 
do  want  to  change  this  life,  but  I  cannot  do  it  and  be 
conservative.  I  must  fasten  upon  a  free  impulse,  a  nat 
ural  chance  of  some  kind.  God  has  kept  my  heart  pure 
in  this  dreadful  place,  where  I  was  born.  Why  are  you 
here,  if  you  are  conservative  ?  It  is  not  a  gentleman's 
resort." 

He  grew  a  little  angry  at  this  thrust,  but  she  continued 
to  look  at  him  quietly,  unaware  that  she  was  impertinent. 

"  I  often  have  business,  Hulda,  with  Joe  and  Patty ; 
negroes  are  very  high,  and  we  must  buy  them  where  they 
are  to  be  had.  But  a  deepening  religious  interest  in  you 
often  attracts  me  here." 

"Why  religious  as  well  as  conservative,  sir?" 

"  I  have  been  afraid  that  the  sights  you  see  here,  after 
the  good  instructions  I  have  given  you,  might  make  you 
an  infidel." 

"What  is  an  infidel?" 

"One  who,  being  unable  to  explain  certain  evils  in  life, 
refuses  to  believe  anything.  That  is  the  case  with  Van 
Dorn,  a  very  bad  man.  Stepfather  Joe  is  always  con 
servative  on  that  subject.  Deviate  as  much  as  he 
may,  he  never  disbelieves.  Aunt  Patty,  too,  erratic  as 
she  is,  holds  a  conservative  position  on  a  Great  First 
Cause." 

Here  McLane  drew  out  his  gold  spectacles,  and  turned 
the  leaves  of  his  Bible  over,  and  pointed  Hulda  a  place 
to  read,  beginning,  "The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart, 


4Q2  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

There  is  no  God."  At  his  command  she  read  it,  with 
faith,  yet  observation,  her  mind  being  fully  alert  to  the 
warning  Van  Dorn  had  left  her,  that  in  his  absence  her 
great  trial  was  to  be. 

McLane  was  wearing  a  gray  English  suit,  with  full 
round  paunch,  sleek  all  over  the  body,  his  hair  a  little 
gray,  his  gold  glasses  dangling  in  his  hand,  patent  var 
nished  slippers  and  silk  stockings,  and  a  silk  scarf  and 
cameo  pin  in  it,  and  a  cameo  of  his  deceased  sister  upon 
his  finger-ring,  marking  his  attire  ;  his  eyes,  of  a  pop  kind, 
much  too  far  forward,  and  blue  as  old  china,  arid  yet  an 
animal,  not  a  spiritual  blue — the  tint  of  washing-blue,  not 
of  distance  ;  a  hare-lip  somewhere  in  his  talk,  though  the 
fulness  of  his  very  red  lips  hardly  allowed  place  for  it ; 
and  his  nose  and  brows  stern  and  military,  as  if  he  had 
been  a  pudding  stamped  with  the  die  of  a  Roman  emperor 
or  General  Jackson. 

He  watched  her  reading  with  censorship,  yet  desire, 
patronage,  and  oiliness  together. 

Glancing  up  when  she  had  read  far  enough,  Hulda 
thought  he  was  looking  at  her  as  if  she  was  some  rarer 
kind  of  negress. 

"  Beautifully  read,  Hulda !  I  never  go  to  such  places 
as  theatres,  but  you  might  be,  I  should  say,  an  actress. 
Don't  think  of  it,  however  !  Very  unconservative  profes 
sion  !  I  take  great  pride  in  you,  my  lovely  girl ;  suppose 
I  take  you  home  with  me !" 

He  walked  to  her  stool,  and  laid  his  warm  hand  on 
her  neck,  standing  behind  her ;  she  did  not  move  nor 
change  color. 

"  Something  has  happened  to  me,  Colonel  McLane," 
Hulda  spoke,  clear  as  a  bell  out  of  a  prison,  "  to  make 
even  Johnson's  Cross  Roads  good  and  happy.  Can  you 
guess  what  it  is  ?" 

She  bent  her  head  back,  and  looked  up  fearlessly  at 
him,  as  if  he  were  the  negro  now. 


HULDA    BELEAGUERED.  493 

"  Not  religious  ecstasy  ?"  he  said.  "  Not  camp-meet 
ing  or  revival  conversion,  I  hope.  That's  vile." 

"  No,  Colonel.  It  is  knowing  a  pure  young  man,  whose 
love  for  me  is  natural  and  unselfish." 

"  Great  God !"  s'poke  McLane,  removing  his  hand, 
"  Not  some  kidnapper  ?" 

"  No,"  Hulda  said,  "  no  slave-dealer  of  any  kind.  They 
cannot  make  him  so.  He  is  perfectly  conservative,  Colo 
nel,  as  to  that  vileness.  I  believe  he  is  a  gentleman,  too." 

"  You  must  have  great  experience  in  that  article,"  he 
sneered,  looking  angry  at  her. 

"  I  have  seen  you  and  my  lover ;  you  have  the  best 
clothes,  and  profess  more.  He  has  a  nature  that  your 
opportunities  would  bring  real  refinement  from.  He  re 
spects  me,  wretched  as  I  am  ;  I  read  it  in  his  eyes.  You 
are  looking  for  a  way  to  degrade  me  in  my  own  feelings, 
yet  to  deceive  me.  Can  you  be  a  gentleman  ?" 

She  was  serene  as  if  she  had  said  nothing,  though  she 
rose  up,  and  stood  at  one  side  of  the  fireplace,  opposite 
him;  between  them  was  a  print  of  General  Jackson  rid 
ing  over  the  British. 

In  that  moment  Allan  McLane  felt  that  the  girl  was 
cheap  at  her  grandmother's  figure. 

He  had  always  conceived  her  a  flexible,  peculiar  child ; 
in  a  few  minutes  she  had  grown  years,  and  become  a  rare 
and  nearly  stately  woman,  not  now  to  be  moulded,  but  to 
be  tempted  with  large,  worldly  propositions. 

"  May  I  ask  who  this  lover  is  that  I  am  so  much  be 
neath,  Hulda — I,  who  have  taught  you  the  accomplish 
ments  you  chastise  me  with  ?  I  found  you  sand  ;  I  made 
you  crystal." 

He  drew  out  a  large  pongee  handkerchief,  and  really 
dropped  some  tears  into  it.  She  continued,  cool  and  un 
moved  : 

"My  love  is  Levin  Dennis,  from  Princess  Anne.  I 
am  not  afraid  to  tell  it." 


494  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Why  ?" 

"  Because  I  want  his  danger  and  mine  to  be  fully  known 
to  him,  and  make  him  a  man." 

The  Colonel  folded  his  pongee,  #nd  came  again  to 
Hulda's  side. 

"  That  dissipated  boy  !  Oh,  Hulda,  where  is  your  real 
pride?  He  has  abandoned  his  mother.  He  is  a  poor 
gypsy.  No,  I  must  save  you  from  such  a  mistake.  It 
is  my  duty  to  do  it." 

"  I  thank  you  for  teaching  me,  whatever  made  you  do 
it.  If  I  could  awaken  in  you  some  unselfishness  towards 
me  and  my  new  love,  sir,  it  would  be  the  greatest  gratitude 
I  could  show  you.  You  conceal  so  many  hard,  bad  things 
under  your  word  '  conservative,'  that  the  gentle  feelings, 
like  forgiveness,  have  forsaken  you,  I  fear." 

"  No,"  the  Colonel  saicl,  stiffly,  his  shoulders  becoming 
more  military,  "  insults  to  my  honor  I  never  forgive.  Peo 
ple  who  do  not  resent,  have  no  conservative  principle." 

"  I  forgive,  as  I  hope  to  be  forgiven,  Joe,  Aunt  Patty, 
Van  Dorn,  and  you.  I  hope  pity  and  mercy  and  sweet, 
unselfish  love,  such  as  I  think  mine  is,  may  grow  in  all  of 
you  !  Oh,  Colonel," — she  turned  to  him  earnestly,  and, 
raising  her  hands  to  impress  him,  he  merely  noted  the 
elegance  of  her  wrists  and  brown  arms — "  the  buying  and 
selling  of  these  human  beings  makes  everybody  unfeel 
ing.  It  is  stealing  their  souls  and  bodies,  whether  they 
be  bought  at  the  court-house  or  kidnapped  on  the  roads. 
My  dream  of  joy  is  to  have  a  husband  who  will  work 
with  his  own  free  hands,  and  till  his  little  farm,  and  sail 
his  vessel,  without  a  slave.  Above  that  I  expect  and  ask 
nothing  from  the  dear  God  who  has  so  long  been  my  pro 
tector  in  this  den  of  crime." 

"  Warm  or  cold,  hectoring  or  tender,  you  are  splendid, 
Hulda,"  McLane  said,  his  face  fairly  refulgent.  "  Now 
let  me  show  you  a  conservative  picture  of  your  real  de 
serts.  I  am  a  bachelor.  I  keep  an  elegant  house  in 


HULDA    BELEAGUERED.  495 

Baltimore.  My  table  is  supplied  with  the  best  in  the 
market ;  my  servants  are  my  slaves,  and  never  disobey 
me  ;  my  paintings  are  celebrated  ;  books  I  never  run  to — 
they  are  radical  things — but  I  can  buy  them  ;  my  carriage 
is  the  best  Railway  turn-out,  and  my  horses  are  Diomeds. 
In  Frederick  County  I  have  an  estate,  in  sight  of  the  moun 
tains.  As  a  Christian  act,  I  will  take  you  away  from  this 
spot,  to  which  you  seem  but  half  kindred,  and  make  you 
my  wife." 

"  You  ask  me  to  marry  you  ?" 

"  Conservatively  ;  that  is,  continue  to  be  my  pupil,  and 
obey  me.  I  will  bring  your  mind  out  of  its  ignorance, 
your  body  out  of  rags,  your  associations  out  of  crime.  I 
will  provide  for  you,  as  you  are  obedient,  while  I  live  and 
after  I  am  dead.  You  shall  travel  with  me,  and  see 
bright  cities  —  New  Orleans,  Charleston,  Havana.  If 
you  remain  here,  you  will  be  another  Patty  Cannon  or 
go  to  jail.  There!  Look  at  it  conservatively:  warmth, 
riches,  pleasure,  attention,  change,  dress  to  become  you, 
a  watch  and  jewels,  against  villainy  and  lowness  of  every 
kind." 

"  How  are  you  to  be  repaid  for  this  ?" 

"  By  your  love." 

"  But  it  is  not  mine  to  give  ;  Levin  has  it." 

"  Pooh  !  that's  beneath  you." 

"But  it  is  gone;  I  cannot  get  it  back;  it  will  not 
come." 

"  Give  me  yourself,"  McLane  said,  drawing  her  towards 
him  ;  "the  refinements  I  do  not  care  about.  Be  mine  !" 

The  girl  allowed  herself  to  be  brought  nearly  to  his 
side,  and,  as  he  bent  to  kiss  her  with  his  large,  compla 
cent  lips,  she  glided  from  his  hands. 

"  I  could  never  stoop,"  said  Hulda,  "  to  be  even  the 
wife  of  a  negro  dealer." 

He  colored  to  the  eyes,  yet  with  admiration  of  her 
almost  aristocratic  composure. 


THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"  You  could  not  stoop  to  me  ?"  he  said.  "  Not  from 
your  father's  gallows  ?" 

"No;  he  was  a  robber,  but  a  bold  one.  You  only 
receive  the  goods." 

She  was  gone  ;  and  he  stood,  with  evil  lights  in  his  face, 
but  no  shame.  He  drank  some  brandy  from  a  flask,  and 
murmured,  "Now  I  have  an  insult  to  revenge,  as  well  as 
a  fancy  to  be  gratified  ;  her  father  must  have  been  a  cool 
rogue.  Well,  everything  has  to  be  done  by  force  here ; 
Patty  Cannon  shall  see  my  gold." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 
AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK. 

OPPOSITE  McLane's  room  was  the  vestibule  to  the 
slave-pen  in  the  garret,  a  room  Van  Dorn  usually  slept  in. 
With  her  emotions  profoundly  excited,  though  she  had 
not  revealed  them— her  modesty  having  received  a  stab 
that  now  brought  bitter  tears  to  her  eyes,  and  blushes, 
unseen  except  by  the  angels,  whose  white  wings  had  hid 
den  them  from  her  tempter— -Vesta  fled  into  this  room  to 
deliberate  upon  her  dire  extremity.  H  u  /J  ^ 

Three  persons  only  were  now  in  the  house,  each  one 
an  interested  party  in  her  ruin  ;  the  man  she  had  left,  and 
Cy  James,  who  was  full  of  cowardly  passion  for  her,  and 
Patty  Cannon,  who,  in  her  present  frame  of  mind,  would 
gloat  to  see  Hulda's  virtue  sacrificed  as  something  incon 
sequential  and  merry  and  heartless. 

"Perhaps  I  can  fly  to  our  old  house  across  the  State 
Line,  and  take  refuge  with  the  new  tenant  there,"  Hulda 
thought.  "  Oh !  I  wish  Van  Dorn  was  here ;  he  is  so  brave ; 
and  when  he  left  me  his  kiss  was  like  my  father's." 

Chains  clanked,  and  the  drone  of  low  hymns  came 
down  the  hatchway  from  the  slave-pen. 


AUNT    PATTY  S    LAST   TRICK.  497 

"There  is  a  white  man  up  there,"  Hulda  reflected; 
"  dare  I  go  up  to  see  ?" 

She  unlocked  the  padlock,  and  stepped  up  the  ladder. 
At  the  pen  door  she  peeped,  but  could  not  make  out  any 
thing  in  the  blackness.  Then  she  pulled  the  peg  out  of 
the  staple,  and  walked  into  the  sickly  odor  of  the  jail. 

"  How  many  are  here  ?"  Hulda  asked.  "  I  hear  you, 
but  cannot  see." 

"Three  men,  one  old  woman,  and  some  little  things, 
makes  the  present  contents  of  Pangymonum,"  spoke  up 
a  rough,  cheery  voice,  "  an',  by  smoke  !  it's  jess  enough." 

"Is  it  the  white  man  that  talks?" 

"  He  says  he's  white,  but  they  think  it's  goin'  to  be  easy 
hokey-pokey  to  pass  him  off  for  a  nigger." 

Her  eyes  soon  recognized  the  speaker  as  he  said,  "By 
smoke!  miss, you're  not  much  like  a  Johnson.  I  reckon 
you're  Huldy." 

"Yes,  and  you,  sir  ?" 

"I  was  Jimmy  Phcebus  before  I  was  a  nigger." 

The  girl  went  rapidly  tip  to  him,  and  put  her  arms 
around  him. 

"Thank  God!"  she  said,  "you  are  not  dead.  Levin 
Dennis,  my  dear  friend,  wept  to  think  you  were  at  the 
river  bottom.  But,  quick,  sir;  I  may  be  caught  here. 
Are  you  all  true  to  each  other  ?" 

"  Yes,  the  traitor's  cut  his  wizzen.     Speak  out,  Huldy !" 

"I  heard  Patty  Cannon  mutter  that  she  was  going  to 
set  her  black  man  free  to  kidnap  for  her.  Hark  !  I 
must  fly." 

Hulda  descended  the  ladder  in  time  to  surprise  Cy 
James  coming  up.  He  bent  his  goose  neck  down  as  he 
leaned  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  and,  looking  up  into 
her  face,  ejaculated, 

"  Hokey-pokey  !  By  smoke  !  And  Pangymonum,  too.'* 
*****  *  * 

"Samson,"  said  Jimmy  Phcebus,  as  soon  as  Hulda  dis- 

32 


49  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

appeared,  "git  ready  to  be  a  first-class  liar;  I  want  you 
to  take  up  Patty  Cannon's  offer." 

"An'  leave  you  yer  alone,  Jimmy?     I  can't  do  it." 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Samson.  Ironed  here,  we  can't  help 
nobody.  Make  your  way  to  Seaford  and  Georgetown, 
and  go  round  the  Cypress  Swamp  to  Prencess  Anne. 
Alarm  the  pungy  captains ;  fur  Johnson'll  try  to  run  us 
by  sail,  I  reckon,  down  the  bay  to  Norfolk.  I've  got  a 
file  that  cymlin-headed  feller  give  me,  an'  I  reckon  I'll 
git  out  of  my  irons  about  the  time  you  git  to  Judge  Cus- 
tis's.  There!  "ole  Patty's  coming." 

"Go,  Samson,"  spoke  the  Delaware  colored  man. 
"  I'm  younger  than  you,  and  I'll  fight  as  heartily  under 
Mr.  Phcebus's  orders." 

Aunt  Hominy's  voice  came  in  blank  monologue  out 
of  the  background : 

"  He  tuk  dat  debbil's  hat,  chillen,  an'  measured  us  in 
wid  little  Vessy." 

******* 

That  evening  there  was  a  long,  free  conference  be 
tween  Samson  and  Patty  Cannon,  in  her  kitchen,  next  to 
the  bar,  where  Hulda  heard  laughing  and  invitations  to 
drink,  and  all  the  sounds  of  perfect  equality,  the  negro's 
piquant  sayings  and  bonhommie  seeming  to  disarm  and 
please  the  designing  woman,  whose  familiarity  was  at 
once  her  influence  and  her  weakness,  and  she  lavished 
her  sociable  nature  on  blacks  and  whites.  Samson  was 
so  fearless  and  observing  that  he  betrayed  no  interest  in 
escaping,  and  came  slowly  into  the  range  of  her  temper 
ament  ;  but,  as  Hulda  peeped,  towards  midnight,  into  the 
kitchen,  she  saw  old  Samson  kindly  patting  juba,  while 
Patty  was  executing  a  drunken  dance. 

As  the  latter  dropped  upon  a  pallet  bed  she  had  there, 
and  fell  into  a  doze,  the  colored  man  quietly  raised  the 
latch  and  walked  off  the  tavern  porch. 

*  ****** 


AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK.  499 

In  the  morning  dawn  horses  and  voices  were  heard  by 
Hulda,  and  she  recognized  Joe  Johnson's  steps  in  the 
house.  He  shook  Patty  Cannon,  but  could  not  awaken 
her;  then  looked  into  Van  Dorn's  room,  and  found  Hulda, 
apparently  sound  asleep,  and  heard  his  name  called  by 
Allan  McLane  across  the  hall : 

"Joe!  not  so  loud.  Be  conservative.  Come  in;  I'm 
waiting  for  you.  Is  all  done  and  fetched?" 

"The  bloke  with  the  steeple  felt  will  never  snickle," 
spoke  the  ruffian. 

"  Good,  good,  Joe  !  Vengeance  is  mine,  and  it's  a 
conservative  saying.  My  dear  sister  is  at  peace." 

"  The  two  yaller  pullets  have  slipped  you  ;  the  abigail 
mizzled  to  the  funeral  with  your  niece,  and  t'other  dell 
must  have  smelt  us,  and  hopped  the  twig." 

"  Not  tasteful  language  at  all,  Joe.  I  don't  understand 
you.  Where  are  the  two  bright  wenches,  Virgie  and 
Roxy?" 

"Roxie's  in  Baltimore;  Virgie's  run  away." 

"Run?  Where?  Don't  trifle  with  me,  Joe  Johnson  ! 
Conservative  as  I  am,  I  don't  like  it,  sir.  Where  could 
she  have  run  ?" 

"  There's  no  way  for  her  to  slip  us  but  by  water  or 
through  the  Cypress  Swamp,  Colonel.  She  ain't  safe 
this  side  of  CantwelPs  bridge.  Word  has  gone  out,  and 
every  road  is  watched." 

"  But  Van  Dorn  is  beaten  back  ;  he  hasn't  made  a  sin 
gle  capture  ;  the  niggers  drove  him  out  of  Dover  with  fire 
arms,  and  he  is  wounded  somewhere." 

The  tall  kidnapper  turned  pale,  and  then  consigned 
Van  Dorn's  shade  to  eternal  torment. 

"  Don't  swear  before  me,  sir !"  McLane,  also  irritated, 
exclaimed.  "  It's  not  conservative,  and  I  won't  permit  it. 
How  do  I  know  Meshach  Milburn  is  dead  ?  who  did  it?" 

"Black  Dave  fired  the  barker,  and  saw  him  settled," 

"  Send  him  here  !" 


500  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

The  negro  came  in,  red-eyed,  and  hoarse  with  diseased 
lungs,  and  stood,  the  wreck  of  a  once  gigantic  and  regular 
man. 

"GiJ  me  a  drink,"  he  muttered;  "I'm  mos'  dead  wi' 
misery  an'  cold." 

"  Tell  this  man  what  you  did,"  Joe  Johnson  spoke  ; 
"you  waited  till  you  saw  the  hat  at  the  window,  and 
fired,  and  fetched  hat  an'  man  to  the  ground?" 

Swallowing  a  thimbleful  of  McLane's  brandy,  the  ne 
gro  grunted  "  Blood !"  and  looked  tremblingly  at  his 
hands. 

"  What  shape  of  hat  was  it  ?"  McLane  asked,  shaking 
the  negro  savagely ;  "  was  it  like  this  ?"  shaping  his  own 
soft  slouched  hat  to  a  point. 

Black  Dave  looked,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  like  that  ?     Damnation  !" 

"No  swearing,  Colonel,  before  us  conservatives,"  vent 
ured  Joe  Johnson  ;  "  what  was  the  hat  like,  Dave  ?  You're 
drunk." 

"  Like  dis,  I  reckon."  He  modelled  the  crown  into  a 
bell  form  with  his  finger. 

Joe  Johnson  and  McLane  looked  at  each  other  a  minute 
with  mutual  accusation  and  confusion,  and  the  former  un 
ceremoniously  knocked  the  negro  down  with  his  great  fist. 

"  No  gold  of  mine  for  this  job,  Joe  Johnson,"  said  Al 
lan  McLane;  "in  your  conservatism  to  save  your  own 
skin,  you  have  let  your  tool  kill  an  innocent  man." 

He  waved  his  hand,  with  all  his  strong  will,  towards 
the  door,  and  shut  it  in  the  kidnapper's  face.  Then,  in 
haughty  emotion,  not  like  fear,  but  disappointed  pride 
and  revenge,  McLane  sat  down,  glanced  around  him  as 
if  to  determine  the  next  movement,  and  instinctively 
reached  his  hand  towards  his  Bible,  which  he  opened  at 
a  marked  page,  and  softly  read,  till  tears  of  baffled  vin- 
dictiveness  and  counterfeited  humility  stopped  his  voice, 
as  follows : 


AUNT   PATTY  S   LAST   TRICK.  501 

"  'To  everything  there  is  a  season,  and  a  time  to  every 
purpose  under  the  heaven  :  A  time  to  be  born  and  a  time 
to  die  ;  a  time  to  plant,  and  a  time  to  pluck  up  that  which 
is  planted ;  a  time  to  kill,  and  a  time  to  heal ;  a  time  to 
break  down,  and  a  time  to  build  up  .  .  .  God  requireth 
that  which  is  past  .  .  .  man  hath  no  pre-eminence  above 
a  beast,  for  all  is  vanity.  ...  a  man  should  rejoice  in  his 
own  works ;  for  that  is  his  portion :  for  who  shall  bring 
him  to  see  what  shall  be  after  him  ?' " 

When  tears  of  pious  vindictiveness  had  closed  the  read 
ing,  Colonel  McLane  spread  his  pongee  handkerchief  on 
the  bare  floor,  and  knelt  in  silent  and  comfortably  as 
sured  prayer. 

*  ****** 

Black  Dave  had  crawled  into  the  room  where  Hulda 
partly  heard  these  revelations,  and  he  entered  the  large 
closet  under  the  concealed  shaft  to  the  prison  pen,  where 
his  groans  and  mental  agony  touched  Hulda's  commis 
eration.  She  opened  the  trap,  and  crawled  there  too. 

"  Hush,  Dave  !"  she  whispered.  "  What  makes  you  so 
miserable  ?" 

"Missy,  I'se  killed  a  man.  Dey  made  me  do  it.  I'll 
burn  in  torment.  Lord  save  me  !" 

"  Dave,"  said  Hulda,  "  my  poor  father  died  for  his  of 
fences.  You  can  do  no  more  ;  but,  like  him,  you  can  re 
pent." 

"  Oh,  missy,  I's  black.  Rum  an'  fightin'  has  ruined 
me.  Dar's  no  way  to  do  better.  De  law  won't  let  me 
bear  witness  agin  de  people  dat  set  me  on.  How  kin  I 
repent  unless  I  confess  my  sin?  De  law  won't  let  me 
confess." 

"  Confess  your  poor,  wracked  soul  to  me,  Dave*.  The 
Lord  will  hear  you,  though  you  dare  not  turn  your  face 
to  him." 

"  Missy,  once  I  was  in  de  Lord's  walk.  My  ban's  was 
clean,  my  face  clar,  my  stummick  unburnt  by  liquor.  I 


502  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

stood  in  no  man's  way  ;  at  de  church  dey  put  me  fo'ward. 
My  soul  was  happy.  One  day  I  licked  a  man  bigger  dan 
me.  It  made  me  proud  an'  sassy.  I  backslid,  an'  wan't 
no  good  to  be  hired  out  to  steady  people ;  so  de  taverns 
got  me,  an'  den  de  kidnappers  used  me,  an'  now  de  blood 
of  Cain  an'  Abel  is  on  my  forehead  forever." 

Hulda  knelt  by  the  murderer,  and  prayed  with  all  her 
heart;  not  the  self-conscious,  special  pleading  of  the 
prayer  across  the  hall,  but  the  humble  prayer  of  the  pen 
itent  on  Calvary  :  "  Lord,  we,  of  this  felon  den,  ask  to  be 
with  thee  in  Paradise." 

******* 

The  whole  of  the  next  day  was  spent  in  preparations 
for  flight  by  Patty  and  her  son-in-law. 

A  boat  of  sufficient  size,  and  crew  to  man  it,  had  to 
be  procured  down  the  river,  and  this  necessitated  two  jour 
neys,  one  of  Patty,  to  Cannon's  Ferry,  another  by  Joe,  to 
Vienna  and  Twiford's  wharf. 

During  their  absence  Cy  James  was  equally  intent  on 
something,  and  Hulda  saw  him  in  the  ploughed  field 
near  the  old  Delaware  cottage,  under  the  swooping  buz 
zards,  directing  the  farmer  where  to  guide  his  plough,  and 
it  seemed,  in  a  little  while,  that  one  of  the  horses  had 
fallen  into  a  pit  there. 

Later  on  Hulda  observed  Cy  James,  with  a  spade, 
digging  at  various  places  near  Patty  Cannon's  former 
cottage. 

"  All  are  at  work  for  themselves,"  Hulda  thought,  "  ex 
cept  Levin  and  me.  How  often  have  I  seen  Aunt  Patty 
slip  to  secret  places  in  the  night,  or  by  early  dawn,  when 
she  looked  every  window  over  to  see  if  she  was  watched. 
Her  beehives  were  her  greatest  care." 

A  sudden  thought  made  Hulda  stand  still,  and  cast 
the  color  from  her  cheeks. 

"They  are  all  going  away.  I  shall  be  taken,  too,  or 
kept  for  worse  evil  here.  My  mother,  in  Florida,  hates 


AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK.  503 

me  ;  she  has  told  me  so.  I  know  the  marriage  Allan 
McLane  means  for  me — to  be  his  white  slave !  Levin  is 
poor,  and  his  mother  is  poor,  too ;  they  say  Patty  Can 
non  has  buried  gold.  Perhaps  God  will  point  it  out  to 
me." 

She  slipped  down  the  Seaford  road,  and  walked  up  the 
lane  in  the  fields  she  knew  so  well.  No  person  was  in 
the  hip-roofed  cottage.  Hulda  went  among  the  outbuild 
ings,  and  began  to  inspect  the  beehives,  made  of  sections 
of  round  trees,  and  the  big  wooden  flower-pots  Patty  Can 
non  had  left  behind  her. 

She  was  only  interrupted  by  a  gun  being  fired  in  the 
ploughed  field,  and  saw  the  pertinacious  buzzards  there 
fall  dead  from  the  air  as  they  exasperated  the  plough 
man. 

******* 

"  I  shall  have  one  piece  of  fun  in  Maryland  before  I 
go,"  Hulda  heard  her  stepfather  say,  as  he  went  past  her 
bed  to  ascend  the  hatchway  at  morn,  "  and  that  is  to  burn 
the  nigger  who  mugged  me.  This  is  his  day." 

Almost  immediately  he  came,  cursing,  down  the  ladder, 
followed  by  a  jeering  laugh  from  above,  and  the  cry, 
"  We'll  all  see  you  hanged  yit,  by  smoke  !  an'  mash  an 
other  egg  on  your  countenance,  nigger-buyer  !" 

In  a  moment  or  two  a  tremendous  quarrel  was  going 
on  below  stairs  between  the  kidnapper  and  his  wife's 
mother,  and  Hulda  believed  they  were  murdering  each 
other;  and,  peeping  once  to  see,  beheld  Johnson  holding 
Patty  to  the  floor,  and  stuffing  her  elegant  hair,  which 
had  been  torn  out  in  the  scuffle,  into  her  mouth. 

"  I'll  be  the  death  of  you,  old  fence,  before  I  go,"  he 
shouted  ;  "  the  verdict  would  be, '  I  did  the  county  a  ser 
vice.'  " 

"  Come  away  there  !"  cried  Allan  McLane,  pushing  past 
Hulda  and  between  the  combatants.  "  Shame  on  you, 
Joe  !  To  whip  your  grandmother  is  hardly  conservative. 


504  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Here  is  an  errand  that  will  pay  you  well :  my  wench  Vir- 
gie  has  been  caught." 

The  kidnapper  released  the  woman  and  turned  to  his 
guest. 

"Good  news!"  he  said;  "  ef  it  puts  my  neck  in  the 
string,  I'll  fetch  her  fur  you." 

His  countenance  had  begun  to  assume  a  sensual  ex 
pression,  when  Patty  Cannon,  to  whom  his  back  was 
turned,  rushed  upon  him  like  a  tornado,  lifted  him  from 
his  feet,  and  threw  him  through  the  back  door  into  the 
yard  and  bolted  him  out.  McLane  retreated  by  the  oth 
er  door. 

"  Thank  heaven  !"  reflected  Hulda,  looking  down  in  ter 
ror,  "  no  one  is  murdered  yet,  and  I  have  another  day  of 
grace  to  wait  for  Levin." 

******* 

"  Cunnil  McLane,"  said  Patty  Cannon,  in  his  room 
that  night,  "what  interest  have  you  in  the  quadroon  gal 
an'  Huldy,  too?  You  don't  want  'em  both,  Cunnil?" 

"No,  Aunt  Patty.  All  my  views  are  conservative. 
Quite  so !  Hulda  I  want  to  reform  and  model  to  my 
needs.  She'll  ornament  me.  By  taking  the  girl  Virgie 
from  my  niece  Vesta,  I  desire  to  punish  the  latter  for  con 
senting  to  the  degradation  of  our  family,  and  marrying 
the  forester,  Milburn.  She  loves  this  quadroon ;  there 
fore,  I  want  to  deprive  her  of  the  girl :  Joe  is  to  bring  her 
to  me,  do  you  see  ?" 

His  face  expressed  the  indifference  he  felt  to  Virgie's 
safety  on  the  way,  and  the  coarse  suggestion  gave  Patty 
Cannon  her  opportunity : 

"  Cunnil,  there's  but  three  in  the  house  to-night ;  I  am 
one." 

"I  am  two,  Patty." 

"And  three  is  purty  Huldy,  Cunnil  !" 

They  looked  at  each  other  a  few  minutes  in  silence. 

"  There  is  two  to  one/'  said  Patty  Cannon,  with  a  gig- 


AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK.  505 

gle.  "  We  have  no  neighbors  that  air  not  used  to  noises 
yer." 

The  silence  was  restored  while  the  two  products  of 
men-dealing  read  each  other's  countenances. 

"  I  made  a  very  conservative  and  liberal  proposition  to 
her,  Patty,  and  she  insulted  me,  yet  beautifully.  But  I 
owe  her  a  grudge  for  it." 

"Insulted  you,  Cunnil  ?  The  ongrateful  huzzy  !  Can't 
you  insult  her  back?  She  never  dared  to  disobey  me. 
.Her  pride  once  broke  down,  she'll  be  like  other  gals,  I 
reckon."-  -.  : 

"  That's  true,  no  doubt.  But,  Patty,  haven't  you  a  little 
remorse  about  it,  considering  she's  your  grandchild  ?" 

"  My  mother  had  none  fur  me,  honey,"  the  old  woman 
chuckled,  familiarly. 

"  What  is  that  story  I  have  heard  something  of,  about 
your  origin,  Patty?" 

"  I  don't  know  no  more  about  it,  Cunnil,  than  a  pore, 
ignorant  gal  would,  you  know.  I've  hearn  my  grandfa 
ther  was  a  lord.  A  gypsy  woman  enticed  his  son  and  he 
married  her.  His  father  drove  him  from  his  door,  an'  his 
wife  fetched  him  on  her  money  to  Canady,  where  she 
went  into  the  smugglin'  business  at  St.  John's,  half-way 
between  Montreal  and  the  United  States." 

"  And  he  was  hanged  there  for  assassinating  a  friend 
who  detected  him  ?" 

"They  says  so,  honey.  Anyhow,  he  was  hanged.  We 
gals  was  beautiful.  Says  mother  :  '  It's  a  hard  world,  but 
don't  let  it  beat  you,  gals  !  Marry  ef  you  kin.  Anyway, 
you  must  live,  and  you  can't  live  off  of  women.'  I  mar 
ried  a  Delaware  man,  and  so  I  quit  bein'  Martha  Hanley 
and  became  Patty  Cannon."* 

*  The  origin  of  Patty  Cannon  is  in  doubt ;  a  pamphlet  published 
near  her  time  gives  it  as  above,  with  strong  circumstantial  embel 
lishments,  yet  there  are  neighbors  who  say  she  was  of  Delaware  and 
Maryland  stock — a  Baker  and  a  Moore.  The  weight  of  tradition  is 
the  other  way. 


506  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  And  what  a  career  you  have  led,  Aunt  Patty !  Lived 
anywhere  but  in  this  old  pocket  between  the  bays,  you 
would  have  had  the  reputation  of  Captain  Kidd.  Tell 
me  now,  conservatively,  was  not  your  own  helpless  .child 
hood  the  cause  of  your  mistakes,  and  does  it  never  make 
you  feel  for  other  sparrow-birds  like  Hulda  ?" 

The  black-haired  woman,  with  a  certain  evil-thinking, 
like  one  reflected  upon  harshly,  finally  clapped  her  bold 
black  eyes  on  McLane's,  and  replied,  chuckling : 

"  I  don't  know  as  it  do,  Cunnil.  Before  my  mother 
pinted  the  way,  I  loved  the  men.  I  loved  'em  to  be  bad. 
Mommy  tuk  us  as  we  drifted.  An'  as  fur  Huldy  yer,  her 
mother  throws  her  onto  me ;  she's  not  like  the  Cannons 
an' Johnsons;  she's  full  of  pride,  and, "with  an  oath,  "let 
it  be  tuk  out  of  her  !  Will  you  pay  my  price  ?" 
He  hesitated. 

"  It's  not  the  price,  Patty ;  it's  the  way.  Isn't  it  cow 
ardly  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Patty,  saucily,  "it's  kidnappin'.  That's 
the  trade  yer.  Pay  down  the  money,  Cunnil,  an'  this  bare 
room  will  brighten  to  be  your  wedding  chamber.  Pah ! 
are  you  a  man  !" 

Her  words  aroused  the  visions  self-l-ove  can  reluctantly 
repulse,  and  which,  entertained  but  an  instant,  grow  irre 
sistible. 

The  limber,  maturing,  rounding  form  of  Hulda  stepped 
on  the  footstool  of  his  mind,  touched  his  knee,  and  ex 
haled  the  aroma  of  her  youth  like  a  subtile  musk,  till  he 
leaned  back  languidly,  as  if  he  smoked  a  pipe  and  on  its 
bowl  her  bust  was  painted,  and  all  her  modesties  dissolved 
into  the  intoxication.  Brutality  itself  grew  natural  to  this 
vision,  as  a  fiercer  joy  and  substitute  for  the  deceit  he 
could  no  longer  practice.  The  child  had  flown  from  her 
in  the  instant  of  his  grasping  it,  like  a  pale  butterfly,  but 
there  remained  where  it  had  floated,  a  silken  and  nubile 
essence,  fairy  and  humanity  in  one,  clad  in  pure  thoughts 


AUNT   PATTY  S   LAST   TRICK.  507 

and  sweet  respect,  the  profanation  of  which  would  be  as 
rare  a  game  as  Satan's  struggle  with  the  soul  of  Eve. 

Her  innocence  and  spirit,  self-respect  and  awakened 
womanly  consciousness,  weakness  and  sensibility,  mettle 
and  beauty,  presented  themselves  by  turns  ;  and  the  cold, 
woodeny  room,  the  neglected  tavern,  the  autumn  night 
wind  coming  down  the  chimney  and  starting  the  fire,  all 
seemed  instinctive,  like  him,  with  mischief,  as  if  Patty  Can 
non's  soul  flew  astraddle  of  a  broom  and  led  a  hundred 
witches. 

McLane  was  fifty ;  his  family  was  a  stiff  commercial 
one,  that  had  generally  kept  demure,  yet  grasping,  and 
practised  the  conservatism  he  also  boasted  of,  but  had 
departed  from  :  he  was  the  outlaw  of  the  house,  yet  ele 
vating  its  tenets  into  an  aggressive  shibboleth,  the  more 
so  that  he  prospered  by  anti-progress. 

He  was  a  backer  of  domestic  slave-dealers,  and  put  his 
money  into  forms  of  gain  men  hesitated  at ;  not  only  at 
the  curbstone,  for  usury,  but  behind  pawnbrokers  and 
sporting  men,  in  lottery  companies  and  liquor-houses,  and, 
it  was  said,  in  the  open  slave-trade,  too,  clippers  for  which 
occasionally  stole  out  of  the  Chesapeake  on  affected 
trading  errands  to  the  East  Indies,  and  came  home  with 
nothing  but  West  India  fruits. 

He  strove  to  maintain  his  credit  by  ostentatious  abhor 
rence  of  novelties  and  heterodoxies,  and  of  all  liberal 
agitations,  and  had  the  sublime  hardihood  to  carry  his 
Bible  into  every  sink  of  shame,  as  if  it  was  the  natural 
baggage  of  a  gentleman,  and  expected  with  him ;  and  he 
would  rebuke  "  blasphemy  "  while  bidding  at  the  slave 
auction  or  sitting  in  a  bar-room  full  of  kidnappers,  among 
many  of  whom  he  passed  for  a  religious  standard. 

No  portion  of  that  Bible  gave  him  any  delight  or  occu 
pation,  however,  except  the  Old  Testament,  with  its  thor 
oughgoing  codes  of  servitude,  concubinage,  and  an-eye- 
for-an-eye.  He  knew  the  Jewish  laws  better  than  the 


508  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Scribes  and  Pharisees  in  the  time  of  Herod  and  John, 
and  had  persuaded  himself  that  the  mental  endorsement 
and,  wherever  possible,  the  practice  of  these,  constituted 
a  firm  believer.  Revenge,  intolerance,  formality,  and  self- 
sleekness  had  become  so  much  his  theory  that  he  did  not 
know  himself  whether  he  was  capable  of  doing  evil  pro 
vided  he  wanted  anything. 

Not  particularly  courageous,  he  was  so  destitute  of 
sensibility  that  he  felt  no  fear  anywhere ;  and,  generally 
going  among  his  low  white  inferiors,  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  being  looked  up  to,  and  rather  preferred  their  society. 
On  everything  he  had  an  opinion,  and  permitted  no 
stranger  in  Baltimore  to  entertain  any.  The  riot  spirit, 
so  early  and  so  frequent  in  that  town,  reposed  upon  such 
vulturous  and  self-conscious  social  pests  as  he,  ever  claim 
ing  to  be  the  public  tone  of  Maryland. 

"  Patty,"  said  Allan  McLane,  in  his  hare-lip  and  bland, 
yet  hard,  voice,  like  mush  eaten  witk  a  bowie-knife,  "I 
may  pay  you  this  money  and  you  may  fail  to  deliver  the 
property.  Will  she  be  tractable  ?" 

"  Cunnil,  I'll  scare  her  most  to  death.  She'll  hide  from 
me  yer  by  your  fire,  and  my  voice  outside  the  door  will 
keep  her  in  yer  till  day." 

McLane  went  to  his  portmanteau  and  unlocked  it,  and 
took  out  rolls  of  notes  and  a  buckskin  bag  of  gold. 

The  yellow  lustre  seemed  to  flash  in  Patty  Cannon's 
rich  black  eyes,  like  the  moon  overhead  upon  a  well. 

"  How  beautiful  it  do  shine,  Cunnil !"  she  said.  "  Noth 
ing  is  like  it  fur  a  friend.  Youth  an'  beauty  has  to  go 
together  to  be  strong,  but,  by  God  !  gold  kin  go  it 
alone." 

He  counted  out  two  piles,  one  of  notes  and  one  of 
gold,  using  his  gold  spectacles  upon  his  hawk  nose  to  do 
so,  and  said  : 

"  Patty,  I've  bought  many  a  grandchild  with  the  old 
woman,  but  this  is  the  first  child  I  have  bought/hwz  the 


AUNT  PATTY'S  LAST  TRICK.  509 

grandmother.  Now  fulfil  your  contract  and  earn  your 
money  !" 

He  put  his  spectacles  in  his  pocket,  stretched  his  gai- 
tered  slippers  before  the  fire,  looked  at  his  watch  and  let 
the  crystal  seal  drop  on  his  sleek  abdomen,  and  his  vit 
reous,  blue-green  eyes  filled  with  color  like  twin  vases  in 
a  druggist's  window.  He  was  ready  and  anxious  to  sub 
stitute  the  ruffian  for  the  tempter. 

Patty  Cannon,  glancing  at  the  money  on  the  table,  and 
bearing  a  lamp,  started  at  once  through  the  house,  calling 
"Huldy!  Huldy!" 

Nothing  responded  to  the  name. 

She  searched  from  room  to  room,  peering  everywhere, 
and  made  the  circuit  twice,  and,  taking  a  lantern,  went 
into  the  windy  night  and  round  the  bounds  of  the  old 
tavern. 

The  house  was  easily  explored,  having  no  cellar  nor 
outbuildings,  and  the  trap  to  the  slave-pen  was  locked 
fast.  The  girl's  shawl  and  hat  were  also  gone. 

"  She's  heard  us,  I  reckon,"  the  old  woman  muttered ; 
"  she's  run  away  an'  ruined  me.  Joe's  cruel  to  me  ;  Van 
Dorn  is  gone ;  without  gold  I  go  to  the  poor-house.  Mc- 
Lane  is  pitiless — " 

She  dwelt  upon  the  sentence,  and,  with  only  an  in 
stant's  hesitation,  turned  into  the  tavern  again  and  but 
toned  the  owter  door. 

Beneath  her  feather  bed  she  reached  her  hand  and 
drew  out  a  large  object,  took  a  horn  from  the  mantel  and 
sprinkled  it  with  something  contained  there,  and  then,  in 
a  bold,  masculine  walk,  stamping  hard,  went  in  the  dark 
up  the  open  stairs  again,  talking,  as  she  advanced,  loud 
ly,  complaisantly,  or  sternly,  as  if  to  some  truant  she  was 
coaxing  or  forcing.  Finally,  at  McLane's  chamber,  she 
knocked  hard,  crying : 

"Open,  Cunnil!  Here's  the  bashful  creattir !  She 
daren't  disobey  no  mo'.  Step  out  and  kiss  her,  Cunnil  !". 


510  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Ha !"  said  McLane,  throwing  open  his  door,  out  of 
which  the  full  light  of  fire  and  candles  gleamed,  "  con 
servative,  is  she  ?  Well,  let  her  enter  !" 

As  he  made  one  step  to  penetrate  the  darkness  with 
his  dazzled  eyes,  Patty  Cannon  silently  thrust  against  his 
heart  a  huge  horse-pistol  and  pulled  the  trigger :  a  flash 
of  fire  from  the  sharp  flint  against  the  fresh  powder  in 
the  pan  lit  up  the  hall  an  instant,  and  the  heavy  body 
of  the  guest  fell  backward  before  his  chair,  and  over 
him  leaned  the  woman  a  moment,  still  as  death,  with 
the  heavy  pistol  clubbed,  ready  to  strike  if  he  should 
stir. 

He  did  not  move,  but  only  bled  at  the  large  lips,  ghast 
ly  and  unprotesting,  and  the  cold  blue  eyes  looked  as 
natural  as  life. 

Patty  Cannon  took  the  chair  and  counted  the  money. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

BEAKS. 

THE  wind  was  blowing  in  spells,  like  crowds  moved 
during  an  argument,  at  one  time  mute  as  awe,  again 
murmurous,  and  sometimes  mutinous  and  fierce,  when 
Hulda,  having  heard  a  few  words  only  of  her  grandmoth 
er's  overture,  glided  from  the  old  tavern  and  passed  on 
into  the  night,  terrified  but  not  unthinking,  till  she  reached 
some  large  pines  that  seemed  to  say  over  her  head,  high 
up  towards  heaven  :  "  Where  now,  oh  where,  oh-h-h 
wh-h-here,  in  the  co-o-o-old,  co-o-o-old  w-h-h-h-ilderness 
of  the  wh-h-h-orld  ?" 

"  Anywhere !"  answered  Hulda,  not  afraid  of  cold  or 
nature,  so  intense  had  become  her  fear  of  men  and  wom 
en.  "  Still,  where  ?  I  might  go  to  Cannon's  Ferry  and 
tell  my  tale  to  those  hard-hearted  merchants,  or  to  Sea- 


BEAKS,  5  1 1 

ford  and  beg  a  shelter  somewhere  there ;  but  first  I  will 
try  our  old  cottage  home  again." 

She  went  so  quietly  up  the  field  lane  that  dogs  could 
not  have  heard  her,  and,  as  she  approached  the  little 
house,  saw  lights  in  it,  and  soon  heard  voices  and  saw 
moving  figures  within. 

Knowing  every  knot-hole  and  crack  of  the  little  dwell 
ing,  Hulda  soon  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  contents  of  the 
house  by  standing  in  the  dark,  a  little  distance  from  one 
of  the  low,  small  windows. 

A  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  main  room,  on  which 
was  an  old  mouldered  chest  with  the  earth  clinging  to  it, 
and  beside  the  chest  were  bones  and  shreds  of  clothing 
on  the  riven  lid  of  the  chest. 

"You  swear  that  the  evidence  you  give  shall  be  the 
truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  so  help 
you  God !"  exclaimed  a  small,  chunky,  Irish-looking  per 
son,  presenting  a  book  to  be  kissed  by  a  scrawny,  chin- 
le*s,  goose-necked  lad,  whom  Hulda  immediately  recog 
nized  as  Cyrus  James. 

"  Shall  I  take  him,  Doctor  Gibbons  ?"  asked  a  fine-look 
ing,  easy-mannered  man,  of  the  magistrate. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Clayton." 

"Do  you  know  the  nature  of  an  oath?     What  is  it?" 

"  I'll  be  fried  like  a  slapper  on  the  devil's  griddle  ef  I 
don't  tell  right,"  whined  Cy  James,  zealously. 

"No  you  won't;  at  least,  not  first.  If  you  don't  tell 
me  the  truth  I'll  have  your  two  ears  cut  off  on  the  pillory, 
and  no  slapper  shall  enter  that  hungry  stomach  of  yours 
for  a  month.  Goy  !" 

He  looked  at  Cy  James  as  if  he  had  a  mind  to  bite  his 
nose  off  as  a  mere  beginning. 

"  Now,  Hollyday  Hicks,  you  and  Billy  Hooper  and  the 
other  constables  take  away  this  box,  which  smells  too 
loud  here,  as  soon  as  the  witness  has  sworn  to  it.  When 
did  you  last  see  this  box,  James?" 


5  12  THE   ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  About  ten  year  ago,  sir,  when  I  had  been  bound  to 
Patty  Cannon  four  year,  I  reckon,  I  see  Patty  an'  Joe 
Johnson  an'  Ebenezer,  his  brother,  all  toting  this  chist  to 
the  field  an'  a-buryjn*  of  it."* 

"  What  did  you  see  them  put  in  that  chest  ?" 

"A  dead  man — a  nigger-trader.  I  can't  tell  whether 
his  name  was  Bell  or  Miller ;  she  killed  two  men  nigh 
that  time,  an'  I  was  so  little  that  I've  got  'em  mixed." 

"Did  you  see  her  kill  this  man?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  wasn't  home.  I  got  home  in  time  to  see  'em 
packin'  him  in  the  box.  I  hearn  Patty  tell  the  boys  how 
she  killed  him.  Oh  !  she  was  proud  of  it,  sir,  becaze  she 
didn't  have  no  help  in  it." 

Half  a  dozen  heads  of  constables,  some  of  whom  Hul- 
da  knew,  leaned  forward  together  to  hear  the  witness, 
while  others  removed  the  unsavory  remains.  Mr.  Clay 
ton  continued : 

"  How  did  she  say  she  killed  him  ?" 

"She  said  he  come  to  Joe's  tavern  with  a  borreyed 
hoss  from  East  New  Market,  where  he  told  the  people  he 
was  buyin'  niggers,  and  would  take  fifteen  thousand  dol 
lars  wuth  if  he  could  git  'em.  He  was  follered  out,  an' 
Ebenezer  Johnson  got  in  ahead  of  him.  They  told  him 
the  tavern  was  full,  an'  he  would  be  better  tuk  care  of  at 
a  good  woman's  little  farm  close  by.  They  made  him 
think,  she  said,  that  a  gentleman  with  much  money  wasn't 
allus  safe  at  the  tavern.  Aunt  Patty  got  him  supper.  He 
sit  at  the  table  after  it  a-pickin'  of  his  teeth.  She  got 
her  pistol  an'  went  out  in  her  garden  a-hoein'  of  her 
flowers.  Once  she  come  up  on  him  at  the  window  to 

*  This  incident  is  fully  related  in  "  Niles's  Register  "  of  April  25, 
1829  (No.  919  of  the  full  series),  page  144,  where  also  is  a  contempo 
rary  account  of  Patty  Cannon's  arrest.  The  date  of  the  exposure  in 
this  story  is  transposed  from  April  to  October.  She  was  to  have 
been  tried  in  October,  but  died  in  May,  about  six  weeks  after  her 
arrest. 


BEAKS.  5  I  3 

shoot,  but  be  turned  quick,  an'  she  says  to  him  :  '  Oh,  sir, 
I  only  want  to  see  if  you  didn't  need  somethin'  more.' 
'  No,  no,'  says  he  ;  '  I've  made  a  rale  good  supper.'  '  I 
loves  my  flowers,'  Aunt  Patty  says,  '  an'  likes  to  hoe  'em 
at  sundown,  so  they  can  sleep  nice  an'  soft.'  '  Do  you  ?' 
says  he ;  'I  reckon  you're  a  kind  woman.'  He  turned 
around  agin  an'  begin  to  look  over  his  pocket-book.  She 
hoed  an'  hoed,  an'  hummed  a  little  tune.  All  at  once 
she  slipped  up,  an'  I  heerd  her  say,  '  Boys,  I  give  it  to  him 
good,  right  in  the  back  of  the  head,  an'  he  fell  on  to  the 
table,  an'  the  water  he  had  been  drinkin'  was  red  as  cur 
rant  wine.'  " 

"James  Moore,  I'll  swear  you  next,"  the  magistrate 
said  to  the  new  tenant  of  the  farm ;  and  this  man  pro 
ceeded  to  testify  concerning  the  rinding  of  the  chest  as 
he  was  ploughing  in  a  wet  spot  where  he  had  removed 
some  brush. 

Cy  James,  being  recalled,  gave  testimony  as  to  other 
buried  bodies,  chiefly  of  children  slaughtered  in  wanton 
ness  or  jealousy,  or  to  avoid  pursuit. 

"  Take  this  boy,  Joe  Neal,"  said  Constable  Hicks,* 
"  and  hold  him  fast." 

"  Goy !"  said  Clayton,  with  a  terrible  frown  at  Cy 
James,  "we  may  have  to  hang  him  yet!  Guilty  knowl 
edge  of  these  crimes  for  so  many  years,  and  exposure  at 
last  only  for  a  private  resentment,  constitute  an  acces 
sory.  Well  for  you,  depraved  young  man,  if  you  had 
possessed  the  principle  of  this  young  gentleman  !" 

The  Senator  placed  his  hand  upon  a  sitting  figure,  and 


*  Thomas  Hollyday  Hicks,  the  Union  Governor  of  Maryland  in 
1861,  was  at  the  date  of  these  events  member  elect  to  the  Legislature 
from  the  neighborhood  of  Patty  Cannon's  operations,  and  was  thir 
ty-one  years  old.  Lanman's  "  Dictionary  of  Congress  "  says  :  "  He 
worked  on  his  father's  farm  when  a  boy,  and  served  as  constable  and 
sheriff  of  his  county. "• 

33 


514  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

there  arose  in  Hulda's  sight  the  image  of  her  lover,  Levin 
Dennis. 

"Constables,"  said  Dr.  Gibbons,  the  magistrate,  "I 
shall  give  you  your  warrants  now.  The  Maryland  au 
thorities  propose,  without  waiting  for  extradition  proceed 
ings,  to  deliver  your  prisoners  at  the  state  line." 

"  Goy  !"  said  Clayton,  "  they  may  have  friends  in  the 
executive  chambers  at  Annapolis.  No,  boys,  act  together, 
like  patriots,  as  the  Maryland  and  Delaware  lads  served 
in  the  same  revolutionary  brigade.  Joe  Johnson  is  due 
here  at  noon  to-morrow  :  be  careful  not  to  disturb  old 
Patty  nor  awaken  her  suspicions  till  he  arrives.  She  is 
almost  past  doing  evil,  but  he  has  a  lifetime  left  to  do  it  in." 

"  Constable  Neal,  I'll  shove  them  over  the  line  to  you  !" 
spoke  the  Maryland  officer. 

"Constable  Wilson,  look  out  when  you  lay  on  to  old 
Patty :  she  may  be  loaded  and  go  off,"  exclaimed  the  Del 
aware  officer. 

"  Doctor  John  Gibbons,"  spoke  Clayton,  "  waste  no 
time  with  them  at  the  hearing  in  Seaford,  but  get  horses 
and  send  them  right  to  Georgetown  jail ;  they  are  slip 
pery  as  eels.  Goy !" 

As  Cy  James  was  being  taken  to  a  secure  place  in  the 
garret  he  turned  to  Levin  Dennis,  much  wilted  and  crest 
fallen. 

"  Oh,  Levin,"  he  said, "  Huldy  won't  have  me  now,  I 
know.  Won't  you  stand  by  me,  Levin  ?  She's  goin'  to 
marry  you,  and  I'll  give  ye  all  I've  found." 

"Huldy!"  Levin  exclaimed:  "oh,  must  I  leave  her 
yonder  at  the  tavern  another  night?" 

"No,"  answered  Hulda,  coming  forward  ;  "we  are  both 
preserved,  my  friend.  But  I  must  have  made  my  bed  in 
the  forest  this  night  if  God  had  not  directed  me  to  you." 

As  they  clasped  each  other  fondly,  Senator  Clayton  ex 
claimed, 

"What?    Doves  among  the  rattlesnakes.     Goy  !" 


PLEASURE   DRAINED.  515 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

PLEASURE    DRAINED. 

THE  dawn  had  not  broken  when  that  fleet  traveller, 
Joseph  Johnson,  anticipating  his  enemies  by  hours,  noise 
lessly  tied  his  horses  at  the  tavern  he  had  erected,  and 
nearly  fell  into  the  arms  of  Owen  Daw. 

"Joe,"  said  that  scapegrace,  "thar's  queer  people  hang 
ing  around  yer.  They  say  a  blue  chist  has  been  dug 
outen  the  field  yonder,  an'  bones  in  it.  I  'spect  they're 
a-lookin'  fur  you,  Joe." 

"  I'll  give  you  a  job,  Owen,"  said  Johnson,  quick  on 
his  feet  as  the  boy.  "  Run  these  horses  into  my  wagon 
thar  while  I  git  some  duds  together  before  I  hop  the 
twig." 

Slipping  to  the  rear  of  the  house,  he  entered,  and  looked 
in  Patty's  room — she  was  not  there ;  a  slight  smell  of 
gunpowder  seemed  to  be  in  the  hall.  Passing  rapidly  up 
the  stairs,  Johnson  saw  a  light  shine  in  McLane's  room, 
and  he  kicked  the  door  wide  open,  exclaiming, 

"  Bad  luck  everywhere  ;  the  gal's  stone  dead  ;  the  beaks 
are  round  us.  Wake  up,  McLane  !" 

"  Joe  !"  said  a  voice,  and  Patty  Cannon  threw  her  arms 
around  him. 

"  To  burning  fire  with  you !"  bellowed  the  filial  son. 
"  Take  your  arms  away  !" 

"  Let  us  make  up,  Joe  !  Everybody  has  run  away  from 
us.  Huldy  is  gone,  too.  McLane  is  dead." 

"  Dead  ?     Dead  where  ?" 

"There" — she  pointed  to  a  feather-bed  lying  upon  the 
floor,  the  outlines  of  which  seemed  unusually  pointed  and 
stiff  for  feathers,  though  it  was  sown  up  in  its  own  blank- 


5l  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

ets  and  quilts.  Joe  Johnson  touched  it  with  his  foot  and 
bounded  back. 

"Hell-cat !"  he  cried,  "is  this  one  of  your  tricks  ?" 

"I  did  it  fur  you,  Josie.  He  brought  it  on  hisself. 
There's  his  portmanteau  full  of  money  to  pay  our  travel 
ling  expenses.  He's  sewed  up  beautiful,  and  in  the  bay 
you  can  drop  him  to  the  bottom." 

Joe  Johnson's  face  became  almost  livid  pale,  and,  rush 
ing  upon  Patty  Cannon  with  both  hands  raised,  he  struck 
her  to  the  floor  and  put  his  boot  upon  her. 

"If  I  had  time,  I'd  have  your  life,"  he  hissed.  "  But 
it  would  lose  the  uptucker  a  job.  To-night  I  leave  you 
forever.  Margaretta,  your  daughter,  wishes  never  to  see 
you  again.  Take  this  crib  and  the  blood  you  still  must 
shed  to  keep  your  old  heart  warm,  and  take  my  curse  to 
choke  you  on  the  gallows  !" 

He  rushed  away  and  gave  a  low  whistle  at  the  window ; 
Daw  and  Joe's  brother,  Ebenezer,  a  lower  set  and  more 
sinister  being,  bounded  up  the  stairs  and  loosened  and 
drove  before  them  the  little  band  of  captives. 

"One  word  from  you,  white  nigger,  in  all  this  journey 
to-day,  scatters  your  brains  in  the  woods !" 

Joe  Johnson  drew  a  pistol  as  he  spoke,  and  Jimmy 
Phoebus  saw  his  nervous  determination  too  clearly  to  pro 
voke  it. 

"  Now,  put  this  dab  upon  the  wagon,"  Johnson  said,  re 
ferring  to  the  bed,  and  it  was  carried  down  by  the  broth 
ers,  and  the  dead  man's  portmanteau  thrown  in  beside  it. 

"Joe!  Joe!"  came  the  voice  of  Patty  Cannon,  from 
the  guest's  room,  "take  the  poor  old  woman  that's  raised 
you  along." 

"  Stow  yer  wid  !"  he  answered  ;  "  we  go  to  be  gentle 
men  in  a  land  where  you  would  spot  us  black.  Cross 
cove  and  mollisher  no  more;  raise  another  joe  Johnson, 
if  you  can,  to  make  this  old  hulk  lush  with  business  :  I 
give  it  to  you." 


PLEASURE    DRAINED.  517 

He  was  gone  in  the  vague  dawn.  She  fell  upon  her 
face  across  the  little  bar  and  moaned, 

"  A  pore,  pore,  pore  old  woman  !" 

How  long  she  had  been  leaning  there  she  did  not  know, 
till  familiar  sounds  fell  on  her  ears,  and,  looking  up  with 
a  cry  of  recognition,  she  shouted, 

"  Van  Dorn  !  God  bless  you,  Van  Dorn  !  Is  you  alive 
again  ?" 

The  Captain  was  supported  in  the  arms  of  another 
person,  who  took  him,  ghastly  pale,  into  the  little  bar  and 
laid  him  upon  her  pallet,  muttering, 

"  I  loved  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

*  =£  *  #  *  =*  * 

The  morning  was  well  advanced,  and  the  sun  made 
the  gaunt  and  steep  old  tavern  rise  like  a  mammoth  from 
the  level  lands,  and  filled  its  upper  front  rooms  with  gold 
en  wine  of  light,  as  Patty  Cannon  sat  in  one  of  them  by  a 
window  near  the  piazza,  and  talked  to  Van  Dorn,  whom 
she  had  tenderly  washed  and  re-dressed,  and  placed  him 
in  her  own  comfortable  rocking-chair  of  rushes,  with  his 
feet  raised,  as  all  unaffected  Americans  like,  and  blanket 
ed,  upon  a  second  chair. 

Her  woes  and  his  relief  made  Patty  social,  yet  tender, 
and  the  instincts  of  her  sex  had  returned,  to  be  petted 
and  beloved. 

"Oh,  Captain,"  she  said,  fondly,  "how  clean  and  sweet 
you  look,  like  my  good  man  again.  Don't  be  cross  to  me, 
Van  Dorn  !  My  heart  is  sad." 

"Chito,  Patty  !  chito  !  Fie  !  you  sad  ?  I  like  to  see  you 
saucy  and  defiant.  Let  us  not  repent !  So  Joe  has  left 
you  ?" 

"With  cruel  curses.  My  daughter  hates  me,  he  says, 
and  means  to  be  a  lady  where  I  can't  disgrace  her.  Oh, 
honey!  to  raise  a  child  and  have  it  hate  an'  despise  you 
goes  hard,  even  if  I  have  been  bad.  There's  nothing  left 
me  now  but  you,  Van  Dorn  ;  oh,  do  not  die  !" 


$l8  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

He  coughed  carefully,  as  if  coughing  was  a  luxury  to 
be  very  mildly  exerted,  and  wiped  a  little  blood  from  his 
tongue  and  lip. 

"  I'll  try  not  to  die  till  I  comfort  you  some,  Mdrta  ddi- 
cibso  !  The  ball  is  at  my  windpipe,  and,  when  the  blood 
trickles  in,  it  makes  me  cough,  and  I  must  beware  of  emo 
tions,  the  surgeon  says,  lest  it  drop  into  my  lung  and 
break  a  blood-vessel  by  some  very  spasmodic  cough.  So 
do  not  be  too  beautiful  or  I  might  perish." 

He  stroked  his  long  yellow  mustache  with  the  dia 
mond-fingered  hand,  and  drew  his  velvet  smoking-cap 
tight  upon  his  silken  curls,  but  he  was  too  pale  to  blush 
as  formerly,  though  he  lisped  as  much,  like  a  modest 
boy. 

"  Captain,"  the  woman  said,  pleased  to  crimson,  "  you 
are  so  much  smarter  than  me  I'm  afeard  of  you.  Am  I 
beautiful  a  little  yet  ?  Do  I  please  you  ?  I  know  you 
mock  me." 

"O  hala  hala!"  sighed  Van  Dorn.  "  You  are  the  star 
of  my  life.  All  that  I  am,  you  have  made  me.  Patty,  I 
worship  you.  When  you  are  gone,  human  nature  will 
breathe  and  wonder.  Do  you  remember  when  first  we 
met  ?" 

"  A  little,  Captain.  Tell  it  to  me  again.  Praise  me  if 
you  kin.  I'm  almost  desolate." 

Her  lip  trembled,  and  she  glanced  at  the  fields  across 
the  way,  she  had  so  long  inhabited,  where,  as  it  seemed  to 
her,  more  life  than  ever  was  visible  to-day,  though  she  did 
not  look  carefully. 

"  How  many  years  it  has  been,  Patty,  we  will  not  tell. 
I  was  coming  home  from  Africa  with  an  emigrant,  a  Brit 
on,  my  capturer,  indeed — that  officer  in  the  blockading 
squadron  on  that  coast  who  seized  my  privateer,  the  Ida, 
with  all  her  complement  of  Guinea  slaves.  His  name 
was  all  I  took  from  him — you  got  the  rest — Van  Dorn  T 

She  stole  a  startled  look  at  him  out  of  her  listening 


PLEASURE    DRAINED.  519 

eyes,  as  if  this  might  be  unpleasant  talk,  but  he  parried  it 
with  a  compliment. 

"C/iisJ  Diosf  What  a  family  of  beauties  you  were! 
Betty,  with  her  hoyden  air,  and  Jane,  with  her  wealth  of 
charms,  and  Patty,  with  her  bold,  rich  eyes  and  conquer 
ing  will.  We  sailed  into  the  Nanticoke  by  mistake  for 
the  Manokin.  My  friend  had  pitied  my  misfortunes  and 
liked  my  company,  and,  when  he  broke  me  up  as  a  slaver 
— having  already  been  broken  as  a  privateer — had  said  : 
'  Dennis,  that  country  you  praise  so  well  has  infatuated 
me ;  I'll  resign  my  commission  and  buy  a  little  vessel, 
and  settle  in  America  with  you  for  the  sake  of  my  dear 
little  daughter,  Hulda  Van  Dorn.'  Ayme!  that  poor  lit 
tle  wild-flower :  where  did  she  spend  the  chill  night  yes 
terday,  Patty,  can  you  tell  ?" 

He  coughed  again,  very  carefully,  and  his  eye,  the 
brighter  for  his  fretted  lungs,  never  left  his  hostess,  as 
though  he  feared  she  might  overlook  some  pleasing 
feature  of  his  story.  She  trotted  her  foot  and  mut 
tered  : 

"  You  made  me  jealous  of  her :  I  got  to  hate  an'  fear 
her,  lovey." 

"  Voluptuous  as  two  young  widowers  were  after  a  long 
cruise,  we  tarried  among  you  sirens,  myself  almost  at  the 
threshold  of  my  home,  where  my  wife  believed  me  dead, 
yet  waited  longingly  and  waits  this  morn,  dear  Patty. 
Dios  da  fe!  My  friend,  entasselled  with  bright  Betty, 
sooner  felt  remorse  at  the  spectacle  of  his  little  child  so 
ill-caressed,  and  beckoned  me  away ;  but  he  had  shown 
his  gold,  and  could  better  be  spared  than  reckless  I.  You 
know  the  cool,  deep  game,  dear  Pat.  Hala  ha  !  I  was 
made  to  buy  the  poison  you  sisters  gave  Van  Dorn,  and 
seem  the  accomplice  in  his  death :  never  till  this  week 
has  that  murder  given  up  a  testimony — the  portion  of 
the  dead  man's  coin  your  mother  stole  and  hid,  which 
Hulda  inherited  at  last.  Verdad  es  verde  !  I  became 


520  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

afraid  to  leave  you  :  I  am  here  at  the  death  with  you,  my 
old  enchantress." 

A  crack  ran  through  the  empty  wooden  house,  which 
made  her  rise;  Van  Dorn,  as  he  was  called,  enjoyed  her 
uneasiness,  like  a  pallid  mask  painted  with  a  smile. 

"Captain,"  she  said,  "how  many  people  I  see  out  yon 
der  in  the  fields  !  Maybe  thar's  to  be  a  fox-chase." 

"Sit,  Patty!  Let  me  drink,  in  my  last  days  of  life,  the 
wine  lees  of  your  memory.  You  are  so  dear  to  me !  Turn 
in  the  golden  sun,  that  I  may  linger  on  that  face  which 
autumn's  ashes  fall  upon,  though  through  the  dead  leaves 
I  see  the  russet  colors  smoulder  yet !  How  daring  was 
your  girlhood  :  the  poor  blacksmith  farmer,  whose  name 
you  will  transmit  forever,  fretted  you  with  his  sickness 
and  his  scruples,  and,  he  aqui !  you  stilled  him  with  the 
same  cup  you  mixed  for  Betty's  husband.  His  daughter 
you  gave  to  wife  to  his  apprentice,  a  strong,  stolid  man, 
capable  of  heroism,  Patty,  for  he  died  for  you,  his  dear 
misleader,  on  the  shameful  scaffold,  though  all  the  crowd 
knew  who  his  instigator  was;  but,  like  a  man,  he  died 
and  never  told." 

"Van  Dorn,  you  hurt  me,"  Patty  broke  out;  "I  can 
not  laugh  to-day,  and  these  tales  depress  me,  honey. 
Where  shall  we  go  when  you  are  well  ?" 

"  La  gente  pone,  y  Dios  dispone !  Stay  yet,  and  chat 
awhile.  I  would  not,  for  the  world,  see  you  discouraged, — 
you,  unfathomable  angel!  who,  in  this  mangy  corner  of 
the  globe,  looked  abroad  over  the  land  like  Catherine, 
from  her  sterile  throne,  over  the  mighty  steppes,  and  lev 
ied  war  upon  the  hopes  of  man.  How  you  did  trouble 
Uncle  Sam,  great  Patty,  robbing  his  mails  for  years  be 
tween  Baltimore  and  the  Brandywine!  Young  Nichols 
still  serves  his  term  for  that  shrewd  trick  you  taught  him, 
of  cutting  the  mail-bags  open  as  he  sat,  with  the  corrupted 
drivers,  on  the  crowded  stage,  stealthily  throwing  the  val 
uable  letters  in  the  road,  to  be  gathered  by  a  following 


PLEASURE    DRAINED.  521 

horseman.*  Es  admirable  !  Young  Perry  Hutton,  reared 
by  you  to  kidnap,  then  to  drive  the  mail  and  filch  its  let 
ters — a  Delaware  boy,  too — perished  on  the  gallows  for 
killing  a  mail-driver  more  scrupulous  than  himself,  who 
detected  him  under  his  mask.f  Young  Moore — was  he 
your  connection,  darling? — stopping  the  mail-stage  at  the 
Gunpowder  Forge,  fell  under  the  driver's  buckshot. \  And 
Hare—" 

"Captain,"  called  Patty,  "  I  see  men  and  boys  all  over 
the  fields  yonder,  running  and  digging  and  dragging  away 
the  bresh.  Is  them  ole  buryins  of  mine  suspected?" 

u  Pshaw !  darling,  'tis  your  warm  imagination,  and 
Joe's  unkindness.  I  would  make  you  happy  with  the 
memory  of  your  daring  acts.  Qite  maravilla  !  In  your 
little  pets  you  stamped  a  life  out,  when  another  woman 
would  only  stamp  her  foot.  There  was  that  morning 
when  your  fire  would  not  burn,  and  a  little  black  child 
bawled  with  the  cold  and  angered  you  ;  if  its  body  is  ever 
dug  up  where  it  was  laid,  the  skull  cracked  with  the  billet 
of  wood  will  tell  the  tale.  You  once  suspected  me  of  tru- 
antry  from  your  charms — Quedo,  quedo  !  exacting  dame— 
and  the  pale  offspring  of  poor  Hagar  you  threw  upon  the 
blazing  backlog,  and  grimly  watched  it  burn.  The  pur 
sued  children  whose  cries  you  could  not  still,  that  yet  are 
stilled  till  hell  shall  have  a  voice,  not  even  you  can  num 
ber.  Evangelists,  O  Patty,  dipping  their  pens  in  blood 
of  saints  to  write  your  crimes,  would  make  the  next  age 
infidel,  where  you  will  seem  impossible,  and  all  of  us  my 
thology  !" 

*  See  "  Niles's  Register,"  1826. 

t  See  "  Niles's  Register,"  1820,  for  two  long  accounts  of  this  crime, 
saying,  "  One  of  them,  Perry  Hutton,  a  native  of  Delaware,  formerly 
a  well-known  stage-driver,  who  lately  broke  jail  at  Richmond,  where 
he  had  been  committed  for  kidnapping.  See,  also,  "  Scharf's  Balti 
more  Chronicles,"  pp.  398,  399. 

\  "  Niles's  Register,"  1823. 


522  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Be  still !"  the  woman  cried,  rising  and  walking,  in  her 
rolling  gait,  to  watch  things  without  that  stirred  her  mind 
more  than  her  lover's  recitation  ;  "  what  good  kin  these 
tales  do  you,  Captain  ?  My  God  !  the  roads  is  full  of 
people,  and  they  are  all  looking  yer.  Is  it  at  me,  Van 
Dorn  ?" 

He  coughed  painfully,  still  watching  her,  however,  and 
answered  : 

"  Only  a  quarter-race,  I  guess,  dear  Pat !  What !  are 
you  fearing,  at  your  time  of  life  ?" 

"No,"  cried  Patty  Cannon,  defiantly,  taking  some 
thing  from  her  bosom  ;  "  here  is  the  same  dose  I  gave 
my  husband,  if  the  worst  comes." 

"Bravo,  Patty!  you  only  tarnish  into  age,  like  an  old 
bronze,  that  is  harder  by  time  and  oxidizing.  I  was  a 
gentleman,  and  yet  you  mastered  me.  How  strange  to 
see  us  together  beleaguered  here,  myself  by  death,  and 
you  by  the  law  !  Why,  we  have  defied  them  both  !  Let 
them  come  on  !  Do  you  believe  in  everlasting  fire? — that 
every  injury  is  a  live  coal  to  roast  the  soul  ?  I  know  you 
do;  and,  if  you  do,  how  beautiful  your  rosy  grate  will  be, 
tough  charmer,  with  boys  spoiled  in  the  bud,  and  husbands 
in  the  blossom,  with  families  of  freemen  torn  apart,  and 
children,  born  free  as  the  flag  of  their  country,  sent  to 
perpetual  bondage  and  the  whip.  Poca  barba,poca  ver- 
guenza  /*  Who  but  a  woman  could  have  put  it  into  Will 
iam  Bouser's  head,  when  she  had  kidnapped  him  and 
thirty  negroes  more,  and  sold  them  all  to  Austin  Wool- 
folk,  in  Baltimore,  to  rise  at  sea  on  Woolfolk's  vessel,  and 
massacre  the  officers,  only  to  be  hanged  at  last,  and  all 
to  make  Woolfolk  a  better  customer  !"  | 

"There  are  people  all  round  the  house,  Van  Dorn.  I 
hear  them  on  the  stairs  and  in  the  rooms.  Have  mercy  !" 

*  Spanish  proverb  :  "  Little  beard,  little  shame." 

t  This  case  is  related  in  the  "Life  of  Benjamin  Luncly." 


PLEASURE    DRAINED.  523 

"  Devils,  or  men,  Patty  ?  Both  are  your  courtiers,  re 
member,  and  perhaps  they  crowd  each  other.  What  do 
we  care  ?  Que  contento  estoy  !  Perhaps  I  am  indifferent 
because  no  blood  is  on  my  hands,  vile  slaver  though  I 
am  !  Joe  Johnson  and  his  low-browed  brother  you  could 
teach  to  kill ;  me,  nothing  worse  than  to  steal  and  fondle 
you.  Patty,  you  believe  in  hell.  I  am  a  believer,  too ; 
for  I  believe  in  heaven." 

"  O  Van  Dorn  ;  how  you  do  talk  !" 

"  Since  you  entrapped  my  son,  young  Levin  Dennis — 
chito  !  quedito  !  do  not  start,  fair  fiend — to  have  his  father 
make  another  Johnson  of  him,  I  have  discovered,  through 
the  little  girl,  the  beauteous  damsel  now,  Hulda  Van 
Dorn,  the  sin  you  meant  to  spot  me  with  ;  and,  listen, 
Patty!  it  was  my  son,  rich  with  his  mother's  loyalty  and 
love — clear  guardian  wife,  that  never  shall  learn  of  my 
ruin  here,  nor  see  me  more  ! — it  was  my  Levin,  set  free 
by  me,  who  gave  the  news  at  Dover  and  beat  us  back." 

He  had  partly  risen  as  he  spoke,  and  the  exertion 
seemed  to  choke  him.  The  woman  sat  in  dreadful  si 
lence,  watching  his  veins  rise  upon  his  pale  and  wilful 
face.  He  caught  at  his  throat  with  his  fingers,  and  for 
a  time  could  speak  no  more. 

"  Patty,"  said  he,  at  last,  between  his  coughing  spells, 
"  I  believe  again,  for  I  have  seen  my  wife,  true  as  an  an 
gel,  beauteous  as  a  child,  in  prayer  for  me.  An  honest 
man  waits  my  death  to  love  her  better,  and  be  the  father 
of  my  son.  Hala  o  hala!  I  have  had  the  daughter  of 
my  murdered  friend  to  kiss  and  bless  me,  and  to  love  my 
son.  My  son  has  given  me  his  confidence,  unknowing 
whom  I  was,  and  shown  to  me  a  brave,  pure  heart.  Yo 
soy  amado  !  Their  prayers  may  knock  for  me  at  the  eter 
nal  door.  But  thou,  the  murderer  of  my  youth,  no  heart 
will  pray  for.  Believe  in  hell,  and  die  ;  ha  !  hala  !  ho  /" 

He  pointed  his  white  finger  at  her  in  an  ecstasy,  with 
a  mocking  smile  in  his  blue  eyes,  like  fading  stars  at 


524  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

dawn,  and  then  the  rosy  morning  flowed  all  round  his 
mouth,  as  the  bullet,  detached  in  his  emotion,  fell  towards 
the  lung,  and  wakened  hemorrhage,  and  to  the  last  of  his 
strength  he  pointed  at  her,  and  then  fell  back,  in  crimson 
linen,  smiling  yet  in  death. 

Terrified  at  the  unwonted  scene  of  a  natural  decease  in 
that  abode  of  violence,  the  mistress  only  sat,  the  image 
of  paralysis*  till  her  door  slowly  opened,  and  there  en 
tered,  hand  in  hand,  young  Levin  Dennis  and  Hulcla  Van 
Dorn. 

"  Levin,"  the  young  girl  said,  composed  as  one  to  whom 
reputable  life  and  obsequies  were  familiar,  "  I  have  heard 
the  dying  sentences  of  this  misled,  strong,  disappointed 
man.  Let  us  kneel  down,  dear  friend,  and  say  a  prayer. 
He  was  our  father,  Levin  ;  not  Van  Dorn  —  that  is  my 
name,  the  daughter  of  his  friend — but  Captain  Oden  Den 
nis,  of  the  Ida  privateer." 

As  they  knelt,  with  closed  eyes,  the  room  slowly  filled, 
and  Patty  Cannon's  arms  were  seized  by  two  constables, 
and  the  warrant  read  to  her.  She  heard  it  with  humil 
ity,  making  no  answer  but  this  : 

"Once  I  had  money  an'  friends  a  plenty;  my  money 
is  gone,  and  so  is  my  friends ;  there's  no  fight  now  in 
pore  ole  Patty  Cannon." 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY    CANNON. 

As  Patty  Cannon  came  out  of  the  tavern  the  cross 
roads  were  full  of  people,  taking  their  last  look  at  the 
spot  where  she  had  triumphed  for  nearly  twenty  years. 

None  thought  to  look  at  Van  Dorn,  nor  ask  what  had 
become  of  him,  and  his  friend  Sorden  removed  his  body, 
unseen,  to  a  spot  in  the  pine  woods,  where  his  unmarked 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY   CANNON.  525 

grave  was  dug,  and  standing  round  it  were  three  mourn 
ers  only,  and  Sorden  said  the  final  words  with  homely 
tears  : 

"  I  loved  him  as  I  never  loved  A  male." 

The  Maryland  constable  marched  Patty  Cannon  down 
to  the  little  bridge  of  planks  where  ran  the  ditch  nearly 
on  the  State  line,  and  tradition  still  believes  the  figment 
that  Joe  Johnson  at  that  moment  was  hiding  beneath  it. 

There,  driven  across  the  boundary  like  some  border 
er's  cow,  the  queen  of  the  kidnappers  was  seized  by  the 
Delaware  constable,  and  placed  in  a  small  country  gig- 
wagon,  and,  followed  by  a  large  mounted  posse,  the  road 
was  taken  to  the  little  hamlet  of  Seaforcl,  five  miles  dis 
tant. 

She  watched  the  small  funereal  cedars  and  monumental 
poplar-trees  rise  strangled  from  the  underbrush,  the  dark- 
brown  streams  flowing  into  inky  mill-ponds,  the  close, 
small  pines,  scarcely  large  enough  to  moan,  but  trying  to 
do  so  in  a  baby  tone,  and  her  eyes  turned  to  the  sand, 
where  she  was  soon  to  be.  Not  agony  nor  repentance 
nor  any  hope  of  escape  fluttered  her  cold  heart,  but  only 
a  feeling  of  being  ungratefully  deserted  by  her  friends, 
and  ill-treated  by  her  equals  and  neighbors,  who  had  so 
seldom  warned  or  avoided  her ;  no  preacher  had  come 
to  tell  her  the  naked  gospel,  and  some  had  bowed  to  her 
respectfully,  and  even  begged  her  oats,  and  made  sub 
scriptions  from  her  ill-gotten  silver. 

Seaforcl  was  a  sandy  place  upon  a  bluff  of  the  Nanti- 
coke,  and,  as  the  procession  came  in,  a  party  of  survey 
ors,  working  for  Meshach  Milburn's  railroad,  paused  to 
jeer  the  old  kidnapper.  She  had  grown  suddenly  old, 
and  never  raised  her  voice,  that  had  always  been  so  for 
ward,  to  make  a  reply. 

The  magistrate,  Dr.  John  Gibbons,  had  been  an  edu 
cated  young  Irishman  who  landed  from  a  ship  at  Lewes, 
and,  marrying  a  lady  in  Maryland,  near  Patty  Cannon's, 


526  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

became  the  legal  spirit  of  the  little  town.  His  office,  a 
mere  cabin,  on  a  corner  by  his  house,  being  too  small  for 
the  purpose,  the  examination  was  adjourned  to  the  tavern, 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  near  where  a  mill-pond  brook  dug 
its  way  to  the  Nanticoke.  Around  the  tavern  some  box- 
bush  walks  were  made  in  the  sand,  and  willow-trees  bor 
dered  the  cold  river-side,  and,  at  pauses  in  the  hearing, 
wild-fowl  were  heard  to  play  and  pipe  in  the  falling  tide. 
The  evidence  of  Cy  James  and  other  cowardly  com 
panions  in  her  sins  was  quickly  given,  and  the  procession 
started  through  the  woods  and  sands  to  Georgetown, 
twelve  miles  to  the  eastward,  where  Patty  Cannon  was 
received  by  all  the  town,  waiting  up  for  her,  and  the  jail 
immediately  closed  her  in. 

******  * 

"I  didn't  ezackly  make  out  what  that  cymlin-headed 
feller  did  it  fur,"  Jimmy  Phoebus  remarked,  in  the  hold 
of  an  old  oyster  pnngy,  where  he  found  himself  with  his 
mulatto  friend  and  Aunt  Hominy  and  the  children,  "  but 
the  file  he  fetched  me  has  done  its  work  at  last.  Yer, 
Whatcoat,"  addressing  his  male  fellow-prisoner,  "take 
this  knife  the  same  feller  slipped  me,  an'  cut  these  cords." 
Standing  up  free  again,  Mr.  Phoebus  further  remarked, 

"  Whatcoat,  thar's  two  of  us  yer.  By  smoke !  thar's 
three." 

The  docile  colored  man  opened  his  eyes. 

"  Him !"  exclaimed  the  sailor,  indicating  the  feather 
bed  in  the  hold,  with  its  stiff,  invisible  contents;  "Joe'll 
chuck  him  overboard  down  yer  about  deep  water  some 
where.  Now,  for  a  little  hokey-pokey;  I  think  I'll  git  in 
thar  myself,  an'  let  Joe  sell  t'other  feller  fur  a  nigger." 

Phcebus's  power  over  his  fellow-prisoners — little  chil 
dren  and  idiotic  Hominy  included — was  now  perfect,  and 
he  began  to  explore  the  rotten  old  hold,  which  contained 
oyster-rakes,  fish-lines,  and  the  usual  utensils  of  a  dredg- 
ing-vessel,  and  soon  discovered  that  there  could  be  made 


THE  DEATH  OF  PATTY  CANNON.         527 

a  clear  passage  to  crawl  through  her  from  forecastle  to 
cabin  by  removing  a  few  boards. 

"Yer,  Hominy,"  he  said,  "get  to  work  with  your  nee 
dle,  old  gal ;  I'm  goin'  to  take  you  home." 

******* 

With  a  good  start,  and  a  fair  wind  and  slack  tide, 
Johnson  was  off  Vienna  at  eight  o'clock. 

"  Ten  mile  to  go,  an'  they  can't  catch  me  with  a  race 
horse,"  he  said,  "  after  I  pass  Chicacomico  wharf,  an'  git 
abaft  the  marshes.  I'm  boozy  fur  sleep.  Thar's  two  in 
this  crew  I  don't  know,  and  I  must  be  helmsman.  Bing- 
avast !  I'll  make  my  nigger  work  his  passage." 

He  walked  to  the  hatchway  over  the  hold,  and,  sliding 
it  back,  dropped  in,  and,  with  a  few  expert  blows  of  the 
professional  smithy,  set  Whatcoat  free,  merely  glancing 
where  Phoebus  lay  upon  his  face,  snoring  hard. 

"  Cool  cucumber  of  a  bloke,"  Johnson  said,  "  he'll  be 
too  much  fur  me  in  a  trade ;  I'll  have  to  stifle  him !" 
Then,  ordering  the  mulatto  man  astern,  Johnson  gave 
him  the  tiller,  and  sat  near,  nodding,  till  the  second 
wharf  on  the  starboard  was  passed. 

"  Now  Gabriel  can't  overhaul  me,"  Johnson  exclaimed ; 
"thar's  no  more  road  on  the  Dorchester  side,  an'  the 
Somerset  roads  is  all  gashed  by  creeks  an'  barred  by 
farm-gates.  I'll  sink  that  dab  an'  stiffy." 

He  called  two  deck  hands,  and  lifted  the  body  out  of 
the  hold.  Phoebus  still  placidly  slept  upon  his  face,  and 
Johnson  looked  at  him  with  peculiar  envy  after  a  hurried 
glance  at  the  dead.  Some  ropes  being  put  around  the 
bed,  and  drag-irons  attached  to  them,  the  whole  weight 
was  unceremoniously  thrown  overboard  at  the  point  of 
Hungry  Neck,  and  the  dealer  remarked,  apologetically : 

"  There  goes  a  great  hypocrite,  gentlemen ;  he  wasn't 
above  piracy,  ef  he  could  git  another  man  to  fly  the  black 
flag  for  him.  I  reckon  he'll  be  'conservative'  enough 
after  this.  And  now  I'll  snooze.  Steer  her  for  Ragged 


528  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Point,  yonder,  Whatcoat,  an'  when  you  git  thar  wake  me. 
It's  clear  broad  inlet  all  the  way ;  an'  remember,  nigger, 
I  sleep  and  shoot  on  hair  triggers  !" 

With  his  pistols  in  his  hand,  Johnson  lay  down  in  the 
cabin  a  few  feet  from  the  helmsman,  and  tried  to  see 
and  sleep  at  once.  He  had  been  without  rest  for  many 
nights,  and  sleep  soon  bound  him  in  its  own  clevis  and 
manacles. 

When  he  awoke,  so  deep  had  been  his  slumber  that  he 
could  not  recall  for  a  moment  where  he  was.  The  tiller 
was  unmanned,  the  stars  shone  in  the  cabin  hatchway,  a 
cold  bilge-water  draft  blew  through  the  old  hulk,  and,  as 
he  dragged  himself  up  the  steps,  he  saw  tall  woods  near 
by,  and  heard  the  voice  of  solemn  pines. 

The  vessel  was  aground  ;  wild  geese  were  making  jubi 
lant  shrieks  as  they  cut  the  water  with  their  fleecy  wings, 
like  cameo  engraving;  the  outlaw  gazed  and  gazed,  and 
finally  muttered  : 

"  Deil's  Island,  or  I'm  a  billy  noodle  !  I  run  from  it 
the  last  time  I  was  yer,  an'  my  blood  runs  cold  to  be  yer 
agin  ;  my  daddy  got  his  curse  from  this  camp-meetin'." 

Taking  speed  from  his  apprehensions,  Johnson  slid 
back  the  hatchway  and  leaped  into  the  hold,  starlight 
and  moonlight  following  him,  and  nothing  did  they  reveal 
there  except  one  man,  peacefully  sleeping  upon  his  face, 
as  Phoebus  had  last  been  seen. 

The  kidnapper  shook  his  captive,  but  he  did  not  awa 
ken.  He  turned  the  man  over,  and  there  met  his  eyes 
the  cold  blue  stare  and  Roman  nose  and  bleeding  lips 
of  Allan  McLane,  apparently  returned  from  the  bottom 
of  the  river. 

With  a  shriek,  the  outlaw  bounded  upon  the  deck  and 
ran  to  the  bow  of  the  pungy. 

"  Help  me !"  came  a  faint  cry  from  the  forecastle,  and, 
peeping  in,  Joe  Johnson  recognized  one  of  his  own  famil 
iars  he  had  shipped  at  Cannon's  Ferry,  gagged,  like  his 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY    CANNON.  529 

companion,  and  tied  fast.     The  man  had  just  been  able 
to  articulate. 

"  Now,  spiflicate  me !"  spoke  the  skipper,  relieving  the 
man,  "  the  ruffian  cly  you  !  who  did  this  ?" 

"  The  white  nigger  did  it  all,  Joe.  He  crawled  through 
the  stays  to  the  cabin,  and  got  your  pistols,  first ;  least 
ways,  we  found  him  an'  the  yaller  feller  at  the  helm  on 
top  of  us,  coming  up  the  fo'castle,  and  next  t'other  two 
men  jined  'em.  They  said  ole  Samson  had  give  'em  the 
wink.  We  two  was  tied  and  throwed  in  yer,  an'  ef  you 
had  awaked,  thar  was  a  man  to  stab  you  to  the  heart,  sot 
over  you." 

"The  portmanteau  ?"  cried  Johnson. 

"  That's  gone,  I  reckon.  They  sowed  you  up  a  feather 
an'  oyster-shell  man  on  a  plank  to  heave  overboard  ; 
that's  what  they  said.  They  steered  for  Deil's  Island, 
an'  sot  the  Island  Parson  yer  to  watch  that  you  don't  git 
the  pungy  off,  an'  I  reckon  they're  half-way  to  Princess 
Anne." 

Joe  Johnson  heard  no  more.  He  released  his  creat 
ures  from  their  bonds,  took  the  dead  body  in  the  pungy's 
canoe,  and  gave  the  command  : 

"  Row  fur  the  open  bay  !  We'll  strike  St.  Mary's  Coun 
ty  or  Virginny.  Bingavast!  Hike!  Never  agin  will  I 
put  foot  on  this  Eastern  Shore." 

*  =*  *  *  *  *  ^ 

At  Georgetown  Jimmy  Phcebus,  Samson,  and  Levin 
Dennis  met  again,  and  Levin  told  the  mystery  of  his  fa 
ther's  disappearance. 

"  Never  tell  your  mother,  Levin,  that  Captain  Dennis 
died  in  that  Pangymonum  ;  it  would  break  her  heart,  and 
she  never  would  trust  man  agin." 

"Jimmy,"  spoke  up  Samson,  "let  her  understand  that 
he  got  wrecked  on  the  Ida.  It  looks  a  little  bad,  but  the 
slave-trade  sounds  better  than  kidnappin'." 

"They  say  that  Allan  McLane  owned  that  slave  ves- 
34 


53°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

sel,"  Phoebus  put  in;  "but  he  didn't  live  to  know  his 
loss.     He'll  meet  his  heathens  at  the  Judgment  Seat." 

"Who  has  fed  mother?"  Levin  asked.  "  Hulda  can't 
explain  that." 

"  I  kin,  Levin,"  Samson  Hat  said,  bashfully.  "  It  was 
me.  Good  ole  Meshach  Milburn,  that  everybody's  down 
on,  pitied  that  pore  woman,  an'  made  me  set  things  she 
needed  in  her  window.  He  said  if  I  ever  told  it  he'd 
discharge  me." 

"Dog  my  skin  !"  Jimmy  Phoebus  observed,  "the  next 
man  that  calls  '  steeple  top  '  after  ole  Meshach  I'll  mash 
flat !  But,  come,  my  son,  I've  buried  at  Broad  Creek  your 
wife's  family  relics.  We'll  hire  a  wagon,  and  drive  to  ole 
Broad  Creek  'piscopal  church  on  the  way,  and  there  I'll 
have  you  married  to  Huldy." 

The  sword-hilt  and  coins  were  disinterred,  and  in  that 
ancient  edifice  of  hard  pine,  where  the  worship  of  her 
English  race  had  long  been  celebrated,  the  naval  officer's 
daughter  became  the  wife  of  the  son  of  his  voluptuous  and 
perverted  friend.  As  Jimmy  Phoebus  kissed  them  he  said  : 

"  Levin,  when  your  mother  says  '  Yes,'  all  four  of  us 
will  settle  in  the  West.  Illinois  has  become  a  free  state, 
after  a  hard  fight,  and  I  reckon  that'll  suit  us." 

*  #  #  *  #  -A  * 

For  a  while  Patty  Cannon,  by  her  affability  and  sor 
row,  had  easy  times  in  jail,  and  was  allowed  to  eat  with 
the  jailer's  family;  but,  as  the  examination  proceeded 
before  the  grand  jury,  and  her  menials  hastened  to  throw 
their  responsibility  in  so  many  crimes  upon  her  alone,  an 
outer  opinion  demanded  that  she  be  treated  more  harsh 
ly,  and  some  of  the  irons  she  had  manacled  upon  her 
captives  were  riveted  upon  her  own  ankles.  Very  soon 
dropsy  began  to  appear  in  her  legs  and  feet,  and,  after 
it  became  evident  to  her  that  neither  money  nor  friends 
were  forthcoming  in  her  defence,  she  fell  into  a  passive 
despair. 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY    CANNON.  531 

The  frequent  conferences  between  Jimmy  Phoebus  and 
Cy  James  led  to  the  belief  that  not  only  had  Hulda  re 
covered  portions  of  her  father's  money  and  valuables, 
hidden  in  the  beehives  and  flowerpots  old  Patty  had  so 
assiduously  attended,  but  that  Phoebus  had  seized  upon 
property  indicated  by  the  informer,  and  was  to  have  what 
ever  remained  of  it  after  procuring  the  latter's  release. 

This  result  was  hastened  by  Patty  Cannon's  death, 
which  happened,  to  the  great  relief  of  many  respectably 
considered  people  in  that  region,  who  had  feared  from  the 
first  that  she  would  make  a  minute  confession,  implicating 
everybody  who  had  dealt  with  her  band. 

Among  these  was  Judge  Custis,  who  opened  his  skel- 
eton-in-the-closet  to  John  M.  Clayton  one  spring-like 
day.  Clayton  had  quietly  prodded  on  the  conviction  of 
Patty  Cannon,  but  the  jealousy  of  the  slaveholding  in 
terest  made  him  wary  of  any  open  appearance  against 
her. 

They  were  sitting  in  the  little  parlor  of  the  Methodist 
parsonage,  a  small  frame  house  with  a  conical-roofed 
portico  and  big  end-chimney,  a  little  off  from  the  public 
square,  whither  they  had  gone  to  send  the  pastor  to  wait 
on  the  aged  Chancellor,  who  had  been  taken  ill  in  the 
court-room,  and  lay  in  the  hotel. 

"  Clayton,"  said  Judge  Custis,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice, 
"  what  this  woman  may  do  or  tell,  you  would  not  think 
concerned  me,  but  I  will  show  you  how  deep  her  influ 
ence  has  reached,  as  well  as  explain  to  you  why  I  would 
not  pursue  my  own  servants  to  her  den.  In  this  I  hu 
miliate  myself  before  you,  as  I  must  do,  if  I  am  to  be 
come  your  client." 

"  You  had  been  trading  with  Patty  Cannon  ;  I  guessed 
that  much." 

"  Such  was  the  case.  When  I  was  a  collegian  at  Yale, 
returning  home  one  holiday,  I  fell  in  love  with  a  beauti 
ful  quadroon,  the  property  of  my  uncle,  in  Northampton 


532  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

County.  She  was  an  elegant  woman,  with  a  good  educa 
tion,  and  had  been  my  playmate.  I  was  ardent  and 
good-looking,  and  easily  found  lodgment  in  her  heart ; 
but  the  conquest  of  her  charms  was  long,  and  agonizing 
with  sincere  esteem.  You  must  believe  me  when  I  de 
clare  that  I  fell  dangerously  ill  because  I  was  refused 
by  her,  and,  making  a  confidant  of  my  doctor,  he  .told 
the  girl  that  she  must  choose  between  my  death  and  her 
surrender.  Pity,  then,  prevailed,  even  over  religion.  I 
was  happy  in  every  point  but  one — the  injury  conceal 
ment  worked  upon  her  self-respect ;  for,  Clayton,  my  mis 
tress  was  my  own  cousin." 

"Goy!" 

"  I  never  desired  to  marry,  although  no  children  had 
been  born  in  my  patriarchal  relation  ;  but,  in  the  course 
of  years,  my  uncle  became  pressed  for  debts,  and  he  ap 
pealed  to  me  to  save  my  beautiful  handmaiden  from  sale, 
he  being  in  full  sympathy  with  my  relation  to  her,  because 
she  was  his  daughter." 

"  I  goy !" 

"The  case  was  urgent.  I  possessed  some  negroes,  the 
legacy  of  my  mother.  To  sell  them  publicly  would  be  a 
stigma  both  upon  my  humanity  and  my  credit.  I  adopted 
the  cowardly  device  of  letting  a  kidnapper  slip  them  away, 
and  take  a  large  commission  for  his  trouble.  I  saved  my 
lady,  but  at  the  expense  of  a  secret." 

"  And  that  secret  Joe  Johnson  depended  on,  Custis, 
when  he  was  suddenly  driven  into  your  house,  and  found 
your  old  servant  already  demoralized  by  the  announce 
ment  of  your  son-in-law  ?" 

"  The  scoundrel  pressed  his  advantage  ;  and  he  saw, 
besides,  my  daughter — not  Vesta,  but  her  half-sister,  Vir- 
•gie — and,  between  his  persecution  of  her  and  my  brother- 
in-law's  vindictiveness,  poor  Virgie  was  literally  run  to 
the  ground  and  into  it ;  she  is  in  her  grave." 

Judge  Custis  broke  into  a  long  fit  of  sobbing,  and  Clay- 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY   CANNON.  533 

ton,  who  had  noticed  his  dejected  mien  since  their  sepa 
ration,  passed  an  arm  around  him,  saying:  ; 

"Never  mind,  now!  Never  mind,  old  friend!  John 
son  is  fled  ;  McLane,  they  whisper,  has  never  been  seen 
since  he  entered  Johnson's  tavern.  His  will  was  found 
there,  and  your  daughter  gets  her  mother's  property  and 
servants  back." 

"I  must  finish  my  story,"  Judge  Custis  said,  stanching 
his  tears.  "  By  the  decline  of  every  family  with  natural 
feelings  and  refinement,  under  what  Mr.  Pinkney  termed 
'  the  contaminating  curse  of  reluctant  bondsmen/  we, 
also,  became  poor.  To  save  others,  it  was  necessary 
that  I  must  marry,  and  get  money  by  my  own  prostitu 
tion.  My  God,  how  we  are  repaid  !  A  bride  was  found 
for  me  in  Baltimore,  the  sister  of  Allan  McLane,  and  a 
beauty. 

"  I  began  my  married  life  with  the  best  intentions  • 
my  poor  mistress  herself  advised  me  to  turn  to  my  wife, 
and  become  a  true  man.  She  told  me  so  with  her  heart 
breaking.  In  heaven,  where  she  dwells  with  my  poor 
child,  she  hears  me  now,  and  knows  I  speak  the  truth  !" 

Judge  Custis  broke  down  again,  and  leaned  his  con 
vulsed  head-on  Clayton's  tender  breast,  whose  own  wid 
ower's  grief  gushed  forth  responsively. 

"Children  were  born  in  Teackle  Hall;  my  servitude 
was  becoming  adjusted  to  me,  when  Allan  McLane,  in 
his  love  of  vindictiveness  and  of  low,  formal  respectabil 
ity,  conceived  that  my  poor  quadroon  required  some  chas 
tisement  for  having  been  his  sister's  rival,  and  he  set  a 
trap  to  buy  her.  I  was  forced  to  have  her  bought,  to  pro 
tect  her,  and  to  bring  her  to  my  care  again,  and  thus  our 
passion  was  revived,  and,  giving  birth  to  Virgie,  she  died. 
Reared  together,  and  unconscious  of  their  kindred,  those 
daughters  loved  each  other  as  dearly  as  when,  in  heaven, 
they  shall  hide  in  the  radiance  of  each  other,  and  cover 
my  sins  with  their  angelic  wings." 


534  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

"  Rise  up,  old  friend  !"  cried  Clayton  ;  "your  transgres 
sions  are,  at  least,  washed  out  in  sincere  tears.  Hear  the 
birds  all  around  us  loving  and  condoning,  and  filling  the 
air  with  praise.  Come  out !" 

As  they  stepped  upon  Georgetown  Square  they  saw  John 
Randel,  Jr.,  leading  a  party  of  surveyors  to  locate  the  op 
position  railroad  to  Meshach  Milburn's.  These  and  many 
others  were  pressing  towards  the  whipping-post  and  pil 
lory,  in  the  rear  of  the  court-house,  where  stood,  exposed 
by  the  sheriff,  the  cleanly  mulatto  woman  who  had  enter- - 
tained  Virgie  in  Snow  Hill  the  first  night  of  her  flight. 

"  This  free  woman,  Priscilla  Hudson,"  cried  the  sher 
iff,  "  is  to  stand  one  hour  in  the  pillory  for  the  crime  of 
lending  her  pass  to  a  slave.  Thirty  lashes  she  was  sen 
tenced  to,  the  Governor  has  graciously  taken  off.  She  is 
to  be  sold,  out  of  the  state,  at  the  end  of  one  hour,  for  the 
term  of  her  natural  life,  to  the  highest  bidder." 

The  poor  woman  stood  there,  bare  armed  and  bare 
almost  to  the  bosom,  delicate  and  lovely  to  see,  and  the 
mother  of  free  children,  her  clothing  having  been  partly 
removed  before  the  pardon  of  the  stripes  was  announced 
to  her. 

Her  head  and  arms  were  thrust  through  the  holes  in 
one  leaf  of  the  pillory,  and  thus,  thrown  forward,  her 
modesty  was  exposed  to  the  wanton  gaze  of  the  crowd, 
while,  on  the  other  side  of  the  same  elevated  platform, 
pilloried  in  like  manner,  was  a  female  chicken-thief,  im 
pudent,  indifferent,  and  chewing  tobacco,  and  spitting  it 
out  upon  the  pillory  floor. 

As  Clayton  and  Custis  saw  this  scene  on  their  way  to 
the  tavern,  an  egg,  thrown  from  a  window  of  the  debt 
or's  jail,  whether  meant  for  Mrs.  Hudson  or  not,  struck 
her  in  the  face,  and  its  corrupt  contents  streamed  down 
her  white  and  shivering  breast. 

"  Shame  !  shame  !"  cried  the  people,  as  they  saw  the 
woman  cry,  and,  gazing  up  to  the  jail  window,  an- 


THE   DEATH   OF   PATTY    CANNON.  535 

other  female  face  appearing  there,  turned  their  cries  to 
curses  : 

"  Hang  her  !  hang  her  !" 

For  the  last  time  in  life  Patty  Cannon's  bold  and 
comely  face  swelled  again  with  passionate  blood  to 
the  roots  of  the  glossy  black  hair,  and  the  few  who  saw 
her  rich,  dark  eyes,  inflamed  with  anger,  say  their  pu 
pils  were  dilated  like  the  wild-cat's.  She  was  gone  in 
a  moment,  and  the  sheriff  had  wiped  Mrs.  Hudson's  face 
and  breast  with  a  handkerchief  passed  up  by  a  colored 
woman. 

Two  men  were  now  actively  going  around  the  crowd, 
hat  in  hand,  soliciting  contributions  to  buy  the  woman, 
the  first  a  blind  man,  whose  eyes  were  bandaged,  and  a 
white  man  led  him,  calling  loudly  : 

"The  abolitionists  have  raised  three  hundred  dollars 
to  buy  this  woman's  freedom.  We  want  a  hundred  more, 
as  some  mean  people  may  bid  her  up  high.  This  man, 
her  husband,  stole  her  pass,  to  slip  a  friend  away.  We 
couldn't  git  the  evidence  in,  but  it's  God's  truth,  gentle 
men  !  The  woman's  nursed  my  wife,  an'  done  a  heap  of 
good  ;  and  she  come  here,  of  her  own  free  will,  out  of 
Maryland,  to  nurse  the  Chancellor." 

Little  money  was  raised  in  that  crowd,  since  there  was 
little  to  give,  and,  addressing  the  two  distinguished  stran 
gers,  Sorden,  the  crier,  exclaimed  : 

"  What>  gentlemen,  will  you  let  the  Hunn  brothers  and 
Tommy  Garrett  and  the  Motts  give  three  hundred  dollars 
for  a  woman  they  never  saw,  and  we,  who  see  her  always 
doing  good,  give  nothing  ?" 

"  Pity  !  pity  !"  sobbed  the  blind  man.  "  I'm  burned  so 
bad  nobody  will  buy  me,  but  I  stole  her  pass  to  help  a 
slave  off  that  I  fell  in  love  with." 

Judge  Custis  left  Clayton's  side,  and  waited  till  the 
hour  in  the  pillory  was  done,  and,  after  a  fierce  contest, 
saw  Sorden  come  off  victorious  at  the  sale,  though  it  took 


53^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

every  dollar  the  Judge  could  raise  in  Georgetown  on  his 
private  credit. 

"What  is  the  name  of  the  girl  you  gave  her  pass  to  ?" 
asked  the  Judge  of  the  blind  mulatto. 

"  Virgie,  marster." 

"My  heart  told  me  so,"  exclaimed  the  Judge.  "Your 
crime  has  been  punished  enough.  I  will  send  you  to  your 

wife."* 

******* 

John  Randel,  Jr.,  observed,  that  evening: 

"Devil  Jim  Clark  has  taken  example  from  Patty  Can 
non,  and  squared  the  circle." 

"Not  dead?"  asked  Clayton. 

"Yes,  dead  and  buried.  He  was  cleaning  up  his  con 
tract  on  the  canal,  and  mistook  the  white  Irish  laborers 
there  for  kidnapped  niggers.  They  set  on  him,  and  beat 
him  and  scared  him  together,  so  that  he  never  recov 
ered.  They  say  he  was  '  converted '  on  his  death-bed  ; 
or,  as  the  saying  is,  'he  died  triumphantly  ;'  but  the  dar 
keys  report  that  the  devil  came  straight  down  with  a  char 
iot  and  drove  him  off." 

"That  fellow,  Whitecar,  I'm  reserving,"  said  Clayton, 
"to  punish  when  I  can  use  him  to  sustain  an  argument 
in  favor  of  admitting  negro  testimony  in  kidnapping 
cases,  t  Without  that  admission,  these  kidnappers  can 
not  be  convicted:  even  Patty  Cannon  here  may  escape 
us,  though  she  has  killed  white  men." 

Sorclen  spoke  up,  he  being  of  the  party  : 

"  A  disease  called  leprosy  has  broke  out  in  ole  Derrick 
Molleston's  cabin  ;  Sam  Ogg  has  got  it,  too,  and  they  say 
he  fetched  it  up  from  the  breakwater.  Nobody  will  go 
near  them.  Black  Dave  is  dead;  he  said  he  killed  a 
man  at  Prencess  Anne  :  the  young  wife  of  Levin  Dennis, 

*  A  case  actually  like  this,  happening  twenty-five  years  later,  was 
related  to  me  by  Judge  George  P.  Fisher,  of  Dover, 
t  See  the  case  of  Whitecar  in  the  Delaware  reports. 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY   CANNON.  537 

who  turns  out  to  be  a  lady,  stayed  and  prayed  with  him 
to  the  last,  and  he  went  off  humble  and  happy.  But,  my 
skin  !  another  kidnapper  has  rented  Johnson's  tavern 
a'ready." 

"The  railroad  will  clear  all  these  evils  out,"  exclaimed 
Randel.    "  I've  put  it  into  poetry,"  and  he  began  to  recite  : 

"  To  dark  Nasvvaddox  forest  fled 

The  murderer  from  the  main, 
And  with  the  otter  laid  his  head 

Amid  the  swamp  and  cane  : 
'  Here  nothing  can  pursue  my  ear, 

From  travelled  paths  astray  ; 
I  shall  forget,  from  year  to  year, 

The  world  beyond  the  bay  !' 

"  The  hunted  man  one  morning  heard 

A  whistle  near  and  strong, 
And  in  the  night  a  fiery  light 

The  thickets  flashed  among  : 
The  demon  of  the  engine  rushed 

Along  on  blazing  beams — 
The  hound  the  murderer  had  flushed, 

The  outlaw's  path  was  Steam's  !" 


The  cry  of  hate  from  the  crowd  around  the  whipping 
post,  as  it  awoke  Patty  Cannon's  last  anger,  also  deter 
mined  her  last  crime. 

Fear  was  relative  in  her  :  she  had  neither  the  fear  of 
men  nor  of  shame,  and  only  of  death  as  it  involved  a 
hereafter.  Whether  that  hereafter  was  a  latent  convic 
tion  in  her  mind,  or  the  vivid  admonition  of  guilt  and 
dead  men's  eyes  peering  over  her  dreams  and  into  the  si 
lent,  lonely  watches  of  haunted  midnights,  who  shall  tell? 
There  is  no  analysis  of  a  native  and  ancient  depravity: 
it  was  sown  in  the  marrow,  it  strengthens  in  the  bone, 
and,  with  a  cunning,  daring  self-assertion,  gambles  upon 
the  faith  of  living  and  of  dying  not.  Its  very  fears  push 
it  onward  in  crime,  and  make  it  cruelly  tantalize  its 


THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

own  fate,  as  cowards  lean  over  graveyard  walls,  and  shout, 
with  an  inner  trembling,  "Come  forth — I  dare  you!" 

So  had  this  woman,  conscious  of  her  deserts,  bullied 
eternal  justice  through  its  long  postponements,  never 
doubting,  while  ever  vexing,  the  Spirit  of  God,  until  the 
number  of  her  crimes  crowded  the  tablet  of  her  memory, 
and  out  of  the  hideous  gulf  of  her  past  life  gazed  faces 
without  names  and  deeds  without  memoranda  ;  a  proces 
sion  the  longer  that  strangers  were  in  it,  and,  shrinking 
from  her,  yet  pressing  on,  exclaimed  her  name  or  only 
shrieked  "  Tis  she!"  as  if  her  name  was  nothing  to  her 
curse. 

Sleeping  in  her  chains,  there  were  children's  eyes 
watching  her  from  far-off  corners,  as  if  to  say,  "  Give  us 
the  whole  life  we  would  have  lived  but  for  you  !" 

As  her  swollen  limbs  festered  to  the  irons,  there  were 
babies'  cries  floating  in  the  air,  that  seemed  to  draw  near 
her  breasts,  as  if  for  food,  and  suddenly  convulse  there  in 
screams  of  pain,  and  move  away  with  the  sounds  of  suffo 
cation  she  had  heard  as  they  expired. 

All  night  there  were  callers  on  her,  and  whom  they 
were  no  one  could  tell ;  but  the  jailer's  family  saw  her 
lips  moving  and  her  eyes  consult  the  air,  as  if  she  was 
faintly  trying  bravado  upon  certain  business -speaking 
ghosts  who  had  come  with  bills  long  overdue  and  de 
manded  payment,  and  went  out  only  to  come  again  and 
again. 

Some  of  these  mystic  visitors  she  would  jeer  at  and 
defy,  and  stamp  her  feet,  as  if  they  had  no  rights  in  equity 
against  her  soul,  having  been  on  vicious  errands  when 
they  met  their  ends,  and  bankrupts  in  the  court  of  pity; 
but  suddenly  a  helpless  something  would  appear,  and  par 
alyze  her  with  its  little  wail,  like  a  babeless  mother  or  a 
motherless  babe,  and,  with  her  forehead  wet  with  sweat 
of  agony,  she  would  affect  to  chuckle,  and  would  whisper, 
"Nothin'  but  niggers  !  nothin'  more!" 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY   CANNON.  539 

Day  brought  her  some  relief,  but  also  other  cares,  and 
of  these  the  chief  was  the  care  of  money.  She  had  been 
a"  spendthrift  all  her  life,  and  robbed  mankind  of  life  and 
liberty  to  enjoy  the  selfish  dissipation  of  spending  their 
blood-money  ;  and  what  had  she  bought  with  it  ?  Noth 
ing,  nothing.  To  spend  it,  only,  she  had  wrecked  her  sex 
and  her  soul ;  to  spend  it  for  such  trifles  as  children 
want — candy  and  common  ornaments,  a  dance  and  a 
treat,  a  gift  for  some  boor  or  forester  or  even  negro  she 
was  misleading,  or  to  establish  a  silly  reputation  for  gen 
erosity  :  generous  at  the  expense  of  human  happiness, 
and  of  robbing  people  of  liberty  and  life,  merely  for 
spending-money ! 

Now  she  had  none  to  appease  the  all-devouring  greeds 
of  habit  intensified  by  real  necessity :  no  money  to  buy 
dainties  or  even  liquor ;  no  money  to  spend  upon  the 
jailer's  family  and  keep  the  reputation  of  kindness  alive  ; 
no  money  for  decent  apparel  to  appear  in  court ;  none 
to  corrupt  the  law  or  to  hire  witnesses  and  attorneys. 

The  two  demons  she  had  created  alternately  seized 
the  day  and  the  night :  the  demon  of  money  plagued  her 
all  day,  the  demon  of  murder  pursued  her  all  night. 

Every  morning  she  had  insatiate  wants ;  all  night  she 
had  remorseless  visitors ;  and,  close  before,  the  gallows 
filled  the  view,  with  the  Devil  tying  the  noose. 

That  Devil  she  plainly  saw,  so  busy  on  the  gallows,  fit 
ting  his  ropes  and  shrouds  and  long  death-caps,  and  he 
evaded  her,  as  if  he  had  no  commerce  with  her  now. 

He  was  a  cool  and  wistful  man,  perfectly  happy  in  the 
prospect  of  getting  her,  and  not  anxious  about  it,  so  sure 
was  he  of  her  soon  and  complete  possession. 

He  was  always  out  in  the  jail-yard  when  she  looked 
there,  fixing  his  ropes,  sliding  the  nooses,  examining  the 
gallows,  like  a  conscientious  carpenter ;  and  in  his  com 
placent  smile  was  an  awful  terror  that  froze  her  dumb : 
he  seemed  so  impersonal,  so  joyous,  so  industrious,  as  if 


54°  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

he  had  waited  for  her  like  a  long  creditor,  and  compound 
ed  the  interest  on  her  sins  till  the  infernal  sum  made  hjm 
a  millionaire  in  torments. 

A  Devil  it  was,  real  as  a  man — a  slavemaster  to  whose 
quiet  love  of  cruelty  eternal  death  was  not  enough  ;  a 
man  whose  unscarred  age,  old  as  the  .rising  sun,  still  came 
and  went  in  immortal  youthfulness  and  satisfaction,  but 
for  the  nonce  forgetting  other  debtors  in  the  grip  he  had 
on  her,  as  his  majestic  expiation  for  his  own  shortcom 
ings. 

He  looked  like  a  storekeeper,  a  man  of  accounts,  a 
cosmopolitan  kidnapper,  who  knew  a  good  article  and 
had  it  now.  She  was  so  terrified  that  she  wanted  to  cry 
to  him,  and  see  if  he  would  not  remit  that  business  meth 
od  and  become  more  human,  and  sauce  her  back. 

But  no;  the  longer  she  watched,  the  less  he  looked 
towards  her,  though  she  knew  his  smile  meant  no  one 
else.  To  hang  upon  his  cord  was  very  little  ;  to  go  with 
him  after  it  was  stretched,  down  the  burning  grates  of 
hell,  and  see  him  all  so  cool  and  busy  in  her  misery,  was 
the  gnawing  vulture  at  her  heart. 

In  vain  she  tried  to  throw  responsibility  for  her  sins 
upon  a  vague,  false  parentage  and  fatherhood,  and  say 
that  she  was  bred  to  robbery  and  vice  ;  a  something  in 
her  heart  responded:  "No,  you  had  beauty  and  health 
and  chaste  lovers  whom  you  rejected  or  tempted,  and  a 
mind  that  was  ever  clear  and  knew  right  from  wrong. 
Conscience  never  gave  you  up,  though  drenched  in  inno 
cent  blood.  The  often-murdered  monitor  revived  and 
cried  aloud  like  the  striking  of  a  clock,  but  never  was 
obeyed  !" 

Thus  haunted,  deserted,  peeped  in  upon  from  the  here 
after,  racked  with  vain  needs,  her  outlets  closed  to  every 
escape  or  subterfuge,  revenge  itself  dead,  and  disease  as 
sisting  conscience  to  banish  sleep,  the  wretched  woman 
crawled  to  her  window  one  day  and  saw  the  helpless  effi- 


THE    DEATH    OF    PATTY    CANNON.  541 

gy  of  her  sex  exposed  there  for  doing  an  act  of  humanity; 
and  instantly  an  instinct  she  immediately  obeyed  exacted 
from  her  one  last  familiar,  heartless  deed,  to  show  the 
crowd  that  even  she,  Patty  Cannon  the  murderess,  had 
"no  respect  for  a  nigger." 

That  doctrine  long  survived  her,  though  she  found  it 
old  when  she  came  among  them. 

She  aimed  an  egg  at  the  breast  of  her  sex,  and,  with 
a  barefaced  grin,  she  saw  it  strike  and  burst.  The  next 
moment  the  crowd  had  recognized  and  defied  her. 

In  the  exasperation  of  their  shout,  and  of  being  no 
longer  praised  even  for  insulting  a  negro,  a  convulsion  of 
desperate  rage  overcame  the  murderess. 

Too  helpless  to  retort  in  any  other  way,  yet  in  uncon 
trollable  recklessness,  she  exclaimed,  "They  never  shall 
see  me  hang,  then  !"  and  swallowed  the  arsenic  she  had 
concealed  in  her  bosom. 

That  night  she  died  in  awful  torments. 
*  *  ***** 

The  venerable  Chancellor,  lying  in  the  hotel  near  the 
whipping-post  corner,  watched  by  the  released  Mrs.  Hud 
son,  who  must  to-morrow  depart  from  the  state  forever, 
heard  that  night  voices  on  the  square,  saying : 

"Patty  Cannon's  dead.     They  say  she's  took  poison." 

A  mighty  pain  seized  the  Chancellor's  heart,  and  the 
loud  groans  he  made  called  a  stranger  into  the  room. 

"  Is  that  dreadful  woman  dead  ?"  sighed  the  Chan 
cellor. 

"  Yes  ;  she  will  never  plague  Delaware  again,  mars- 
ter." 

"God  be  thanked!"  the  old  man  groaned.  "Justice 
and  murder  are  kin  no  more." 

They  said  he  died  that  instant  of  heart  disease. 


THE   ENTAILED   HAT. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE   JUDGE    REMARRIED. 

VESTA  found  her  circle  reunited,  though  with  many  ab 
sentees,  at  Princess  Anne. 

Aunt  Hominy  took  her  place  in  the  kitchen,  and  cooked 
with  all  her  former  art,  but  her  voice  and  understanding 
were  gone,  and  she  never  would  go  past  the  Entailed 
Hat,  and  still  regarded  it,  as  nearly  as  could  be  made  out, 
as  the  cause  of  all  her  errors  and  dangers,  though  she 
seemed  to  admit  its  unevadable  dominion. 

The  poor  woman,  Mary,  finding  Samson  Hat,  in  time, 
wishing  to  have  a  partner  in  the  old  storehouse,  where 
he  had  become  the  only  resident,  had  faith  enough  left  to 
make  her  third  marriage  with  him ;  and  his  means  not 
only  made  good  the  property  she  had  lost,  but  the  hale 
old  man  presented  her  with  a  babe  boy,  which  took  the 
name  of  Meshach  Phoebus,  and  on  which  Judge  Custis 
sagely  remarked  that  it  "ought  to  have  been  a  red-head 
ed  nigger,  having  both  the  fiery  furnace  and  the  blazing 
sun  in  its  name." 

On  Samson  Hat's  death,  which  resulted  from  rheuma 
tism  reaching  his  heart,  his  widow  joined  her  deliverer 
from  slavery,  James  Phcebus,  in  the  West,  where  he  lived 
happily  with  his  bride  and  stepson,  and  often  wrote  home 
of  a  friend  he  had  there  named  Abe  Lincoln,  who  made 
flat-boat  voyages  with  him  down  the  Mississippi.  Both 
Ellenora  Phcebus  and  Hulda  Dennis  reared  Western  fam 
ilies  which  played  effective  parts  in  the  drama  of  civiliza 
tion. 

Vesta  lost  no  time  in  setting  free  every  slave  about 
Teackle  Hall  and  on  the  farms,  with  the  approval  of  her 


THE   JUDGE   REMARRIED.  543 

father  and  husband  also,  and  Roxy  became  the  wife  of 
Whatcoat,  the  rescued  freedman,  and  the  replacer,  at  her 
mistress's  side,  of  poor  Virgie,  whose  body  was  brought 
home  and  interred  by  the  church  where  she  had  been 
her  white  sister's  bridesmaid.  The  grief  of  Vesta  for 
Virgie  was  quiet,  but  long,  and  as  that  of  an  equal,  not 
a  mistress,  though  she  may  have  never  known  how  equal. 

In  the  fatalities  thronging  about  her  marriage  Vesta 
observed  one  signal  blessing — the  complete  reform  of  her 
father's  habits. 

He  drank  nothing  whatever,  supplying  with  fruit  the 
pleasures  of  wine,  and  with  exercise  and  business,  on  her 
husband's  behests,  the  vagrant  tours  he  once  made  in  the 
forest  for  politics  and  amours. 

Aware  of  his  sociable  and  voluptuous  nature,  Vesta 
desired  to  see  him  married  again,  to  complete  and  secure 
his  reformation  ;  and,  while  she  was  yet  puzzling  her  brain 
to  think  of  a  wife  to  suit  him,  he  solved  the  problem  him 
self  by  cleanly  cutting  out  Rhoda  Holland  from  under  the 
attentions  of  William  Tilghman. 

Rhoda  had  rapidly  learned,  and  had  corrected  her  gram 
mar  without  losing  her  humor  and  her  taste  for  dress,  and 
her  free,  warm  spirits  soon  made  her  an  elegant  woman, 
in  whom,  fortunately  or  unfortunately,  a  very  decided 
worldly  ambition  germinated, — at  once  the  proof  and  the 
vindication  vt parvenues. 

She  may  have  patterned  it  upon  her  uncle,  or  it  may 
have  emanated  from  his  ambitious  family  stock,  which,  in 
and  around  him,  had  wakened  to  the  vigor  of  a  previous 
century;  but  it  was  so  different  from  Vesta's  nature  that, 
while  it  but  made  nobler  her  soul  of  tranquil  piety  and 
ease  of  ladyhood,  Vesta  was  interested  in  Rhoda's  self-will 
and  business  coquetry. 

A  higher  vitality  than  Vesta's,  Rhoda  Holland  soon 
showed,  in  the  superficial  senses,  more  acuteness  of  sight 
and  insight,  quicker  intuitions,  more  self-love,  though  not 


544  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

selfishness,  less  scrupulousness,  perhaps,  in  dealing  with 
her  lovers,  and,  with  fidelity  and  virtue,  a  pushing  spirit 
that  Vesta  only  mildly  reproved,  since  she  made  the  al 
lowance  that  it  was  in  part  inspired  by  herself. 

"  Take  care,  clear,"  Vesta  said  one  day,  "that  you  grow 
not  away  from  your  heart.  With  all  improving,  there  is 
a  growth  that  begets  the  heart  disease.  Do  you  love 
cousin  William  Tilghman  ?  He  is  too  true  a  man  to  be 
hurt  in  his  feelings.  Nothing  in  this  world,  Rhoda,  is  a 
substitute  for  principle  in  woman." 

"I  don't  want  to  lose  principle,  auntie,"  Rhoda  said; 
"  but  I  am  afraid  I  love  life  too  much  to  be  a  pastor's  wife. 
I  never  saw  the  world  for  so  long  that  I'm  wild  in  it.  I 
want  to  go,  to  look,  and  to  see,  everywhere.  I  feel  my 
heart  is  in  my  wings,  and  must  1  go  sit  on  a  nest  ?  Miss 
Somers — " 

"  The  question  is,  dear,  do  you  love  ?" 

"Auntie,  I  reckon  I  love  William  as  much  as  he  does 
me." 

"  But  he  is  devoted,  Rhoda.  " 

"  If  I  thought  I  had  the  whole,  full  heart  of  William, 
Aunt  Vesta,  and  it  would  give  him  real  pain  to  disap 
point  him,  I  would  marry  him.  But  I  have  watched  him 
like  a  cat  watches  a  mouse.  He  wants  to  marry  me  to 
make  other  people  than  himself  happy  ;  to  reconcile  you 
and  uncle  more  ;  to  take  uncle  more  into  your  family  by 
marrying  his  niece.  William  is  trying  to  love  Uncle  Me- 
shach  like  a  good  Christian,  but,  Aunt  Vesta,  he  thinks 
more  of  your  little  toe  than  of  my  whole  body." 

The  crimson  color  came  to  Vesta's  cheeks  so  unwilling 
ly,  so  mountingly,  that  she  felt  ashamed  of  it,  and,  in  place 
of  anger,  that  many  wives  so  exposed  would  have  shown, 
she  shed  some  quiet  tears. 

"  Rhoda,  don't  you  know  I  am  your  uncle's  wife." 

Rhoda  threw  her  arms  around  her. 

"  Forgive  me,  clear  !     When  you  tell  me,  Aunt  Vesta, 


THE   JUDGE    REMARRIED.  545 

that  William  loves  me  dearly,  I'll  gladly  marry  him.  I 
only  want,  auntie,  not  to  make  happiness  impossible, 
when  to  wait  would  be  better." 

Vesta  wondered  what  Rhoda  meant,  but,  kissing  her 
friend  tenderly  again,  Rhoda  whispered  : 

"  Auntie,  it's  not  selfishness  that  makes  me  behave  so. 
Indeed,  I  love  William  ;  it's  a  sacrifice  to  let  him  go." 

Vesta  looked  up  and  found  Rhoda's  eyes  this  time  full 
of  tears. 

"Strange,  tender  girl!"  cried  Vesta.  "What  makes 
you  cry?" 

Yet,  for  some  unspoken,  perhaps  unknown,  reasons,  they 
both  shed  together  the  tears  of  a  deeper  respect  for  each 
other. 

Soon  afterwards  Judge  Custis,  being  sent  to  Annapo 
lis  by  Milburn,  was  requested  to  take  Rhoda  along,  as  a 
part  of  her  education,  and  Vesta  went,  also,  at  her  hus 
band's  desire. 

She  feared  that  her  father,  devoted  as  he  had  become 
to  her  husband's  business  interests,  still  disliked  him  and 
bore  him  resentment;  and  Vesta  wished  to  see  not  only 
outward  but  inward  reconcilement  of  those  two  men,  from 
one  of  whom  she  drew  her  being,  and  towards  the  other 
began  to  feel  sacred  yet  awful  ties  that  took  hold  on  life 
and  death. 

They  were  taken  to  the  landing  by  Mr.  Milburn  and 
the  young  rector,  and  there,  as  the  steamboat  approached, 
Tilghman  said  : 

"Rhoda,  your  uncle  has  consented.  He  wishes  us  to 
marry.  I  ask  you,  before  all  of  them,  to  consider  my  pro 
posal  while  you  are  gone,  and  come  home  with  your  reply." 

The  impetuous  girl  threw  her  arms  around  him  and 
kissed  him  in  silence,  and,  covering  her  face  with  her  veil, 
awaited  in  uncontrollable  tears  the  steamboat  that  was  to 
carry  her  to  the  mightier  world  she  had  never  seen,  be 
yond  the  bay. 

35 


546  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

After  she  reached  the  steamer  her  stillness  and  grief 
continued,  and  going  to  bed  that  night  she  turned  up  her 
face,  discolored  by  tears,  for  Vesta  to  kiss  her,-like  a  child, 
and  faltered : 

"  Aunty,  don't  think  I  have  no  principle.  Indeed,  I 
have  some." 

******* 

Annapolis,  half  a  century  the  senior  of  Baltimore,  and 
the  first  town  to  take  root  in  all  the  Chesapeake  land, 
was  now  almost  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  and  the 
stern  monument  of  Cromwell's  protectorate.  Its  handful 
of  expelled  Puritans  from  Virginia,  compelled  to  organize 
their  county  under  the  name  of  the  Romanist,  Anne  Arun- 
del,  unfurled  the  standard  of  the  Commonwealth,  red 
dened  with  a  tyrant  king's  blood,  against  the  invading 
army  of  Lord  Baltimore,  and,  shouting  "  God  is  our 
strength :  fall  on,  men  !"  annihilated  feudal  Maryland, 
never  to  revive ;  and,  after  King  William's  similar  revo 
lution  in  England,  "  Providence  town  "  took  his  queen 
sister's  name,  Awiapolis,  like  Princess  Anne  across  the 
bay. 

Annapolis  became  a  place  of  fashion  and  of  court,  with 
horse-races,  stage-playing,  a  press,  a  club,  fox-hunting 
clergymen,  a  grand  state-house,  the  town  residences  of 
planters,  the  belles  of  Maryland,  and  the  seat  of  war 
against  the  French,  the  British  crown,  and  the  slavehold 
ers'  insurrection. 

It  was  now  in  a  state  of  comfortable  decline,  having 
yielded  to  Baltimore  and  to  Washington  its  once  superior 
influence  and  society ;  but  a  lobby,  the  first  in  magnitude 
ever  seen  in  this  province,  had  assembled  in  the  name  of 
canals  and  railroads  to  compete  for  the  bonded  aid  of 
the  Legislature,  and  Judge  Custis  was  leading  the  forlorn 
hope  of  the  Eastern  Shore  for  some  of  the  subsidy  so  lib 
erally  showered  upon  the  cormorant,  Baltimore. 

Judge  Custis  was  instructed  to  lobby  at  Annapolis  for 


THE   JUDGE   REMARRIED.  547 

one  million  dollars,  or  only  one-eighth  part  of  the  grants 
made  by  the  state,  and  he  was  to  draw  on  Meshach  Mil- 
burn  for  funds,  who,  meantime,  continued  out  of  his  pri 
vate  resources  to  grade  and  buy  right  of  way  for  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty  miles  of  railroad. 

The  adventure  was  gigantic  for  the  private  capital  of 
that  day,  and  the  unpopularity  of  the  adventurer  at  home 
was  soon  testified  at  the  state  capital. 

Vesta,  whose  carriage  had  been  brought  over,  looked 
with  a  gentle  patriotism— being  herself  of  divided  Mary 
land  and  Virginia  sympathies — upon  the  little  peninsu- 
lated  capital,  with  its  old  roomy  houses  of  colonial  brick, 
its  circles  and  triangles  in  the  public  ways,  and  the  un 
changed  names  of  such  streets  as  King  George,  Prince 
George,  and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester ;  but  Rhoda  was  ex 
cited  to  the  height  of  state  pride  in  everything  she  saw, 
and,  with  strong  faculty,  seized  on  the  historical  and  po 
litical  relations  of  Annapolis,  till  Judge  Custis  said : 

"Vesta,  that  girl  is  of  the  old  rebel  Milburne  stock,  I 
know.  She  takes  it  all  in  like  a  wild  duck  diving  for  the 
bay  celery." 

With  two  such  beautiful  women  to  speak  for  it,  the 
Eastern  Shore  railroad  seemed  at  first  to  have  many 
friends,  but  it  was  not  in  the  nature  of  the  enterprising 
elements  about  Baltimore  to  yield  a  point,  however  com 
plaisant  they  might  appear. 

Vesta  did  not  go  into  general  company,  but  her  influ 
ence  was  mildly  exercised  in  her  rooms  at  the  large  old 
hotel,  and  in  her  carriage  as  she  made  excursions  in  pleas 
ant  weather  to  the  South  and  West  rivers,  to  "  the  Forest " 
of  Prince  George  and  to  the  thrifty  Quakers  of  Mont 
gomery.  She  wrote  and  received  a  daily  letter,  her  hus 
band  being  attentive  and  tender,  despite  his  growing  cares, 
as  he  had  promised  to  be  on  that  severe  day  he  made  his 
suit  to  her. 

But  the  story  of  her  sacrifice,  shamefully  exaggerated, 


548  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

with  all  that  intensity  of  expression  habitual  in  a  pro- 
slavery  society  whenever  money  is  the  stake  and  denun 
ciation  the  game,  was  used  to  injure  her  husband's  inter 
ests. 

Mr.  Milburn  was  described  as  a  vile  Yankee  type  of 
miser  and  overreacher,  who  had  plotted  against  the  fort 
une  of  a  gentleman  and  the  virtue  of  his  daughter  for  a 
long  series  of  remorseless  years. 

Local  opposition  affirmed  that  he  would  use  the  rail 
road  to  ruin  other  gentry  and  oppress  his  native  region, 
and  that  he  was  a  Philadelphia  emissary  and  an  aboli 
tionist,  scheming  to  create  a  new  state  of  the  three  juris 
dictions  across  the  bay. 

Judge  Custis,  with  his  great  popularity,  did  not  escape 
censure ;  he  was  said  to  have  winked  at  the  surrender  of 
his  child  for  money  and  ambition,  and  to  have  broken  the 
heart  of  his  estimable  wife  after  he  had  lost  her  fortune 
in  an  iron  furnace. 

Senator  Clayton,  whose  mother  had  originated  near 
Annapolis,  made  a  visit  there  from  Washington,  and 
was  entrapped  into  saying  that  Delaware  would  furnish 
all  needful  railway  facilities  for  the  Eastern  Shore,  and 
that  two  railways  there  would  never  pay. 

Finally,  Judge  Custis  wrote  to  his  son-in-law  to  come 
to  Annapolis  and  meet  these  misstatements  in  person. 

Milburn  came,  and  his  pride  being  irritated  by  the  nat 
ure  of  the  opposition,  he  wore  to  the  scene  of  the  combat 
his  ancestral  hat. 

He  became  at  once  the  most  marked  figure  in  Mary 
land. 

In  one  end  of  the  state  he  was  caricatured  in  drawings 
and  verses  as  the  generic  Eastern-Shore  man,  wearing 
such  a  hat  because  he  had  not  heard  of  any  later 
styles. 

The  connection  of  a  man  of  last  century's  hat  with 
such  a  progressive  thing  as  a  railroad,  seemed  to  excite 


THE   JUDGE   REMARRIED.  549 

everybody's  risibilities.  His  railroad  was  called  the  Hat 
Line,  even  in  the  debates,  and  coarse  people  and  negroes 
were  hired  by  wits  in  the  lobby  to  attend  the  Legislature 
with  petitions  for  the  Eastern  Shore  railroad,  the  whole 
delegation  wearing  antique  and  preposterous  hats,  gath 
ered  up  from  all  the  old  counties  and  from  the  slop-shops 
of  Baltimore  ;  and  in  that  day  queer  hats  were  very  com 
mon,  as  animal  skins  of  great  endurance  were  still  used 
to  manufacture  them.* 

From  Somerset  word  was  sent  that  Milburn  retained 
his  hat  from  no  amiable  weakness  or  eccentricity,  but 
because  he  had  entered  a  vow  never  to  abandon  it  till  he 
had  put  every  superior  he  had  under  his  feet;  and  that 
he  was  a  victim  of  gross  forest  superstition,  and  had  made 
a  bargain  with  the  devil,  who  allowed  him  to  prosper  as 
long  as  he  braved  society  with  this  tile. 

The  hotel  servants  chuckled  as  he  went  in  and  out  : 
the  oystermen  and  wood-cutters  called  jocosely  to  each 
other  as  he  passed  by ;  respectable  people  said  he  could 
have  no  consideration  for  his  wife  to  degrade  her  by 
raising  the  derision  of  the  town.  Judge  Custis  finally  re 
marked  : 

"  Milburn,  I  resolved,  many  years  ago,  never  to  ad 
dress  you  again  on  the  subject  of  your  dress.  My  duty 
makes  me  break  the  resolve  :  your  hat  is  the  worst  ene 
my  of  your  railroad." 

*  I  take  the  following  note  from  the  New  York  Tribune  of  Decem 
ber,  1882:  "The  town  of  Richmond,  Ind.,  is  said  to  be  the  centre 
of  Quakerdom  in  this  country,  and  has  five  meetings  in  the  two 
creeds  of  Fox  and  Hicks,  and  the  Earlham  Quaker  College.  There 
I  saw  the  large,  fur-covered  white  hats,  a  few  of  which  are  still  left, 
which  were  imported  into  Indiana  by  the  North  Carolina  Quakers 
from  'Beard's  Hatter  Shop,'  an  extinct  locality  in  the  North  State, 
where  the  Quakers  were  prolific,  and  they  all  ordered  these  marvel 
lous  hats,  which  are  said  to  be  literally  entailed,  being  incapable  of 
wearing  out,  and  as  good  for  the  grandson  as  for  the  pioneer.  They 
are  made  of  beaver-skin  or  its  imitation  in  some  other  fur." 


550  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Vesta,  however,  was  the  Entailed  Hat's  greatest  victim. 
It  lay  upon  her  spirits  like  a  shroud.  Nervous  and  ap 
prehensive  as  she  had  become,  the  perpetual  admonition 
and  friction  of  this  article  drove  her  into  silence  and 
gloom,  poisoned  the  air  and  blocked  up  the  sunlight, 
made  going  forth  a  constant  running  of  the  gantlet,  and 
hospitality  a  comedy,  and  human  observation  a  wondering 
stare. 

The  hat  was  the  silent,  unindicated  thing  that  stood 
between  her  and  her  husband  and  the  rest  of  the  world. 
She  never  mentioned  it,  for  she  saw  that  it  was  forbidden 
ground.  Kind  and  liberal  as  her  husband  was  in  every 
other  thing,  she  dared  not  allude  to  a  matter  which  had 
become  the  centre  of  his  nervous  organization,  like  an  in 
durated  sore ;  and  yet  she  saw,  from  other  than  selfish 
considerations,  that  this  hat  was  his  own  worst  foe. 

Some  positive  vice — and  he  had  none — some  calcu 
lating  conspiracy — and  he  was  direct  as  the  day — some 
base  amusement  or  hidden  habit  or  acrid  disease  would 
hold  him  in  captivity  and  pervert  his  heart  less  than  this 
simple  aberration  of  behavior.  Had  he  been  a  hunch 
back  men  would  have  overlooked  it ;  a  hideous  goitre  or 
wen  they  would  not  have  resented  ;  but  extreme  gentility 
or  highbred  courtesy  could  not  refrain  from  turning  to 
look  a  second  time  at  a  man  with  a  beautiful  lady  on  his 
arm  and  a  steeple  hat  upon  his  head. 

The  existence  of  any  subject  man  and  wife  must  not 
talk  together  upon,  which  is  yet  a  daily  ingredient  of  com 
fort  and  display,  itself  disarranges  their  economy  and 
finally  becomes  the  chronic  intruder  of  their  household  • 
and,  when  it  is  a  trifle,  it  seems  the  more  an  obstacle,  be 
cause  there  is  no  reasoning  about  it. 

This  Hat  had  long  ceased  to  be  external :  it  was  worn 
on  Milburn's  heart  and  stifled  the  healthy  throbbing  there. 
It  made  two  men  of  him, — the  outer  and  the  household 
man, — and,  like  the  Corsican  brothers,  they  were  ever  con- 


THE   JUDGE    REMARRIED.  551 

scious  of  each  other,  and  a  word  to  one  aroused  the  oth 
er's  clairvoyant  sensibility. 

"  If  people  would  only  not  observe  him,"  Vesta  said, 
"  I  think  he  would  lay  his  hat  aside  ;  but  that  is  impos 
sible,  and  all  his  pride  is  in  the  unending  conflict  with  a 
law  of  everlasting  society.  Who  sets  a  fashion,  we  do  not 
know ;  who  dares  to  set  one  that  is  obsolete  must  be  a 
martyr;  independence  no  one  can  practise  but  a  lunatic. 
Oh,  what  tyranny  exists  that  no  laws  can  reach,  and  how 
much  of  society  is  mere  formality !" 

Vesta  pitied  her  husband,  but  the  disease  was  beyond 
her  cure.  She  had  anticipated  some  compensation  for 
her  marriage,  in  a  larger  life  and  society,  and  in  the  exer 
cise  of  her  mind,  especially  in  art  and  music ;  yet  these 
were  purely  social  things  with  woman,  and  the  baneful 
hat  was  ever  darkening  her  threshold  and  closing  the 
vista  of  every  other  one.  She  meditated  escaping  from 
it  by  a  visit  to  Europe,  which  her  father  had  promised  her 
before  his  embarrassments,  and  which  had  been  spoken 
of  by  Mr.  Milburn  as  due  her  in  the  way  of  musical  per 
fection. 

"Uncle,"  Rhoda  Holland  said  one  day,  "do  put  off  that 
old  hat.  Aunt  Vesta  could  love  you  so  much  better! 
People  think  it  is  cruel,  uncle.  Oh,  listen  to  your  wife's 
heart  and  not  to  your  pride." 

"  Stop  !"  said  Milburn.  "  One  more  reference  to  my 
honest  hat  and  you  shall  be  sent  back  to  Sinepuxent  and 
Mrs.  Somers." 

It  may  have  been  this  dreadful  threat,  or  rising  ambi 
tion,  or  the  fascinations  of  Judge  Custis's  position  and  at 
tentions  and  remarkable  gallantry,  that  disposed  Rhoda 
to  turn  her  worldly  sagacity  upon  the  father  of  her 
friend. 

The  visit  to  Annapolis  occupied  the  whole  winter;  as 
it  proceeded,  Judge  Custis,  suppressing  the  temptations 
of  the  table,  and  feeling  his  later  responsibilities  thought- 


552  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

fully,  and  desirous  of  a  fixed  settlement  in  a  home  again, 
felt  a  powerful  passion  to  possess  Rhoda  Holland. 

He  contended  against  it  in  vain.  Her  beauty  and  co 
quetry,  and  ambition,  too,  seized  his  fancy,  and  worked 
strongly  upon  his  imagination.  He  had  seen  her  grow 
from  a  forest  rose  to  be  the  noblest  flower  of  the  gar 
den,  superb  in  health,  rich  in  colors,  tall  and  bright 
and  warm,  and  easily  aware  of  her  conquests,  and  with 
a  magical  touch  and  encouragement.  She  began  to 
lead  him  on  from  mere  mischief.  He  was  wise,  and  ob 
servant  of  women,  and  he  threw  himself  in  the  place  of 
her  instructor  and  courtier.  She  became  his  pupil,  and 
an  exacting  one,  driving  his  energies  onward,  demanding 
his  full  attention,  stimulating  his  mind ;  and  Vesta  soon 
saw  that  her  father  was  a  blind  captive  in  the  cool  yet 
self-fluttered  meshes  of  her  connection. 

"Is  there  any  law,  husband,"  Vesta  asked,  "to  prevent 
Rhoda  marrying  Judge  Custis?" 

"I  think  not.  There  is  no  consanguinity.  In  a  soci 
ety  where  every  degree  of  cousins  marry  together,  it  would 
be  as  gratuitous  to  interfere  in  such  a  marriage  as  to  for 
bid  my  hat  by  law." 

"  He  is  so  enamoured  of  her,"  said  Vesta,  "that  I  fear 
the  results  of  her  refusing  him  upon  his  habits.  Father 
is  a  better  man  than  he  ever  was  :  a  wife  that  can  retain 
his  interest  will  now  keep  him  steady  all  his  life." 

The  adjournment  of  the  Legislature  was  at  hand  ;  an 
other  year,  and  perhaps  years  unforeseen  in  number,  were 
to  be  occupied  in  the  same  slow,  illusive  quest. 

Judge  Custis  found  himself  one  morning  early  above 
the  dome  of  the  old  state-house,  where  he  frequently 
went  at  that  hour  with  Rhoda  Holland,  to  look  out 
upon  the  bay  and  the  town  and  "  Severn's  silver  wave 
reflected." 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  sparkle  of  humor,  yet  a  flush 
of  the  cheek,  and  said  ; 


THE   JUDGE    REMARRIED.  553 

"  My  girl,  what  is  to  be  your  answer  to  Pastor  Tilgh- 
man's  marriage  offer?" 

"It  cannot  be." 

"  Then  I  am  free  to  ask  for  another.  Rhoda,  you  have 
seen  that  I  am  foolish  for  you.  I  was  your  admirer  when 
you  were  a  poor  forest  girl — " 

"  And  when  you  were  a  married  man,"  Rhoda  inter 
rupted.  "  How  splendid  and  sly  you  were  !  But,  even 
then,  I  was  delighted  that  a  great  man  like  you  could  even 
flirt  with  me.  Perhaps  you  will  cut  up  the  same  way 
again  ?" 

"No,  Rhoda.  This  is  my  last  opportunity.  I  will  de 
vote  to  you  my  remaining  life.  I  am  fifty-five,  but  it  is 
the  best  fifty-five  in  Maryland.  You  shall  have  the  de 
votion  of  twenty-five." 

"  I  want  to  be  taken  to  Washington,"  Rhoda  said.  "  I 
think  I  could  marry  an  old  man  if  he  took  me  there." 

"  I  will  run  for  Congress,  then.  You  will  make  a  great 
woman  in  public  life.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  love  me,  but 
to  let  me  love  you.  Oh,  my  child,  marriage  has  been  a 
tragedy  with  me.  I  will  be  a  repentant  and  a  fond  hus 
band.  Hear  my  selfishness  speak  and  make  the  sacri 
fice." 

"  If  I  say  'Yes/  "  said  Rhoda,  "  it  is  not  to  settle  clown 
and  nurse  you.  You  are  to  be  what  you  have  been  this 
winter :  a  beau,  and  an  ever  fond  and  gallant  gentle 
man." 

"  Yes,  as  long  as  time  will  let  me." 

"  Then  say  no  more  about  it,"  Rhoda  answered,  with  a 
little  pallor;  "if  the  rest  are  willing,  a  poor  girl  like  me 
will  not  refuse  you,  but  say,  like  Ruth,  *  Spread  thy  skirt 
over  thine  handmaid  ;  for  thou  art  a  near  kinsman.'  I 
love  your  daughter." 

Meshach  Milburn,  not  more  than  half  pleased  with  the 
turn  affairs  had  taken,  hastened  to  Princess  Anne  in  ad 
vance  and  sought  William  Tilghman. 


554  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

"Dear  friend,"  he  said,  "I  hope  your  heart  was  not 
committed  to  my  wayward  niece  ?" 

"  Has  she  engaged  herself  to  another,  Cousin  Me- 
shach  ?" 

"  Yes,  to  Judge  Custis.  You  know  what  a  taking  way 
he  has  with  girls.  It  was  not  my  match,  William." 

Milburn  looked  at  the  young  man  and  beheld  no  dis 
appointment  on  his  face — rather  a  flush  of  spirit. 

"  Cousin  Meshach,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "  I  thought  I 
could  make  Rhoda  happy ;  I  thought  I  interpreted  her 
right.  Since  I  was  mistaken,  it  is  better  that  she  has 
been  sincere.  No,  my  heart  is  still  a  bachelor's  and  a 
priest's.  See,  cousin  !  The  bishop  has  sent  for  me  to 
take  a  larger  field." 

He  united  Rhoda  and  the  Judge,  as  he  had  married 
his  first  love — to  another  ;  she  was  pale  and  in  tears  ;  he 
kissed  her  at  the  altar,  and  gave  his  hand  to  the  Judge 
warmly : 

"I  know  you  will  be  a  better  Christian, Cousin  Daniel. 
God  has  given  you  much  love  on  the  earth.  Our  prayers 
for  you  have  been  answered." 

Vesta  was  disappointed,  expecting  to  see  William  made 
happy  in  a  marriage  with  Rhoda. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

THE    CURSE    OF    THE    HAT. 

As  the  spring  burst  upon  Princess  Anne  in  cherry  blos 
soms  and  dogwood  flowers,  in  herring  and  shad  weighting 
the  river  seines,  and  broods  of  young  chickens  and  peach- 
trees  pullulating,  and  as  the  time  of  fruit  and  corn  and 
early  cantaloupe  followed,  the  life  in  human  veins  also 
unfolded  in  infant  fruit,  and  Vesta  became  a  mother. 


THE   CURSE   OF   THE    HAT.  555 

The  forest  and  the  court  had  harmonized  in  the  off 
spring,  and  the  young  boy  took  the  name  of  Custis  Mil- 
burn. 

Healthy  and  comely,  as  if  Society  had  made  the  match 
for  Nature,  the  infant  flourished  without  a  day's  ailing, 
and  grew  upon  its  parents'  eyes  like  a  miracle,  having 
the  symmetry  and  loveliness  of  the  mother,  and  the  bold, 
challenging  countenance  of  the  father;  and  to  Meshach 
it  brought  the  satisfaction  of  an  improved  posterity,  and 
an  heir  to  his  success ;  to  Vesta,  compensation  for  the 
loss  of  worldly  society. 

She  found  more  joy  in  Teackle  Hall,  with  this  won 
drous  product  of  her  sacrifice  and  pain,  than  with  the 
admiration  of  all  the  good  families  in  Maryland ;  and  a 
sense  of  warmth  and  gratitude  sprang  to  her  conscience 
towards  the  father  of  this  matchless  gift. 

"  I  have  not  given  him  my  whole  loyalty,"  she  reflected, 
with  exacting  piety ;  "  I  have  let  trifles  stand  before  my 
vows." 

Accordingly,  when  Milburn,  conscience-stricken,  and 
accusing  himself  of  hard  conditions  in  exacting  a  marriage 
without  love,  came  one  day,  with  all  the  magnanimity  of 
a  new  parent,  before  his  wife  to  make  some  restitution, 
she  surprised  him  by  arising  and  kissing  him. 

"Sir,  I  have  been  very  proud  and  stubborn.  Do  for 
give  me !" 

He  pressed  her  to  his  breast,  while  his  tears  ran  over 
her  face. 

"  Honey,"  he  said  at  length,  "  what  a  mockery  my  crime 
to  you  has  been — to  think  that  you  could  ever  love  me ! 
No,  I  will  give  you  freedom.  Dear  as  your  captivity  is 
to  me,  your  cage  shall  open  and  you  shall  fly." 

Vesta  stepped  back  at  these  strange  words  and  waited 
for  him  to  explain.  He  continued  : 

"I  will  send  you  to  Italy  with  our  child.  Your  father 
shall  go,  too,  if  you  desire.  Go  from  me  and  these  un- 


55^  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

loved  conditions,  this  hateful  bondage  and  constraint" — • 
his  tears  flowed  fast  again,  but  he  let  them  fall  ungrudged, 
— "find  in  your  music  and  your  noble  mind  forgetful- 
ness  of  this  unworthy  marriage.  I  can  live  in  the  recol 
lection  of  the  blessing  you  have  been  to  me." 

"What!"  said  Vesta;  "do  you  command  me  to  leave 
you?" 

"Yes.  Let  it  be  that.  I  know  how  conscientious  you 
are,  my  darling,  but  it  is  your  duty  to  go.  A  hard  struggle 
is  before  me  :  I  am  deeply  embarked  in  an  untried  busi 
ness.  Now  I  can  spare  the  money.  Go  and  find  hap 
piness  in  a  happier  land." 

She  went  to  him  again  and  put  her  arms  around  him. 

"Leave  you?"  she  said.  "What  have  I  done  to  be 
driven  away  ?  How  could  I  reconcile  myself  to  let  you 
live  alone  ?  '  For  better  or  for  worse,'  I  said.  God  has 
made  it  better  and  better  every  day." 

He  held  her  head  between  his  palms  and  looked  into 
her  eyes,  to  see  if  she  spoke  from  the  heart. 

"Husband,"  she  whispered,  "I  love  you." 

=£  =*  *  *  =&  =*  * 

The  minds  of  both  husband  and  wife,  after  this  recon 
cilement,  turned  to  the  disturbing  hat  as  the  subject  of 
their  estrangement  hitherto. 

Said  Milburn  to  himself:  "What  a  sinner  I  have  been 
to  distress  that  poor  child  with  my  miserable  hat !  At 
the  first  opportunity  she  gives  me,  I  will  lay  it  aside  for 
ever." 

Said  Vesta  to  her  father  and  his  bride  :  "What  a  wicked 
heart  I  have  kept,  to  oppose  my  husband  in  such  a  little 
thing  as  his  good  old  hat — the  badge  of  his  reverence 
to  his  family  and  of  his  bravery  to  an  impertinent  age.  I 
have  let  it  discolor  my  married  life  and  all  the  sunshine. 
But  my  baby  has  melted  my  obdurate  heart.  Come,  unite 
with  me,  and  let  us  show  him  that  everything  he  wears 
we  will  adopt  proudly." 


THE   CURSE   OF   THE   HAT.  557 

Therefore,  when  Milburn  next  went  out,  his  wife  came 
with  a  beaming  face  and  elastic  step  and  put  on  his  head 
his  steeple  hat.  He  looked  at  her  grimly,  but  she  stopped 
his  protest  with  a  kiss. 

He  thought  to  introduce  the  subject  to  Judge  Custis, 
but  that  fond  bridegroom  broke  in  with  : 

"  Milburn,  you're  a  game  fellow.  It  was  impudent  in 
me  to  say  one  word  about  your  hat.  I'll  get  one  like  it 
myself  if  I  can  find  one.  Tut,  tut,  man  !  It  becomes  you. 
Say  no  more  about  it." 

Milburn  undertook  to  make  the  explanation  to  his 
niece,  but  before  he  could  well  begin  she  cried : 

"Uncle  Meshach,  Aunt  Vesta  is  just  in  love  with  your 
hat !  She  won't  hear  of  your  wearing  any  other.  We're 
all  going  to  stand  by  it,  uncle. " 

A  man  chooses  his  own  verdict  by  a  long  course  of 
behavior ;  austerity  in  the  family  begets  fear ;  an  affecta 
tion,  whether  of  folly  or  resentment,  is  at  last  credited  to 
nature  ;  man  is  seldom  allowed  to  escape  from  the  trap 
of  his  own  temperament. 

So  Meshach  Milburn  never  obtained  the  opportunity 
to  relieve  himself  from  the  affliction  with  which  he  had 
afflicted  others.  Like  an  impostor  who  has  established 
the  claim  of  deafness,  and  mankind  bawls  in  his  ear,  the 
hatted  spectre  was  made  to  feel  uncomfortable  when  he 
put  off  his  tile — his  consistency  was  at  once  on  trial.  He 
was  like  a  boy  who  had  pricked  a  cross  upon  his  hand  in 
India  ink,  a'nd,  growing  to  be  a  man  with  taste  and  po 
sition,  sees  the  indelible  advertisement  of  his  vulgarity 
whenever  he  takes  a  human  hand. 

To  have  put  on  any  other  hat  would  have  subjected 
him  to  new  hoots  and  comments,  and  made  himself 
publicly  smile  at  his  own  folly  ;  he  must  have  climbed  as 
high  as  the  pillory  to  explain  the  change  and  make  apol 
ogy;  the  society  he  had  faced  in  defiance  seemed  all  at 
once  united  to  refuse  him  a  status  without  his  Entailed 


558  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

Hat,  and  it  would  have  taken  the  courage  of  throwing  off  a 
life-long  alias  and  living  under  a  forgotten  name,  to  appear 
in  Princess  Anne  in  a  new,  contemporary  head-dress. 

Milburn  saw  that  he  must  wear  his  old  hat  for  life; 
he  bent  under  the  servitude,  and  was  alone  the  victim  of 
it  now. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

FAILURE    AND    RESTITUTION. 

THE  railroad  struggle  was  renewed  from  year  to  year. 

The  Legislature  was  annually  beset  by  strong  lobby 
forces,  and  an  embittered  contest  between  the  Potomac 
Canal  and  the  greater  railway  company,  to  strangle  each 
other,  left  the  Eastern  Shore  railroad  out  of  notice.  Loco 
motive  engines  of  native  invention  began  to  appear;  the 
railroad  to  Washington  was  finally  opened,  and,  next,  to 
Harper's  Ferry,  as  Vesta's  boy  became  a  young  horse 
man  and  learned  to  read.  The  venerable  court-house  at 
Princess  Anne,  with  its  eighty-seven  years  of  memories, 
burned  down  during  these  proceedings,  and  a  panic  ex 
tended  over  Patty  Cannon's  old  region  at  the  whisper  of 
another  Nat  Turner  rebellion  among  the  slaves  ;  but  no 
mention  of  the  thousands  of  abductions  there  was  made 
in  the  anti-Masonic  convention  at  Baltimore,  where  Samuel 
S.  Seward  and  Thaddeus  Stevens  nominated  Mr.  Wirt  for 
President,  because  one  white  man  had  been  stolen.  The 
murder  of  Jacob  Cannon  by  Owen  Daw  did  produce  some 
distant  comment  a  little  later,  chiefly  because  of  the 
apathy  of  the  Delaware  society  to  pursue  the  murderer. 

By  a  long  course  of  usury  and  legal  persecution  the 
Cannon  brothers  had  become  detested  in  their  own  com 
munity,  and  when  they  sued  O'Day,  or  Daw,  for  cutting 
down  a  bee-tree  on  one  of  their  farms' he  had  tilled,  and 
then  enforced  the  judgment  of  ten  dollars,  Daw, — now  a 


FAILURE    AND    RESTITUTION.  559 

man  in  growth  and  of  Celtic  vindictiveness, — loaded  his 
gun  and  started  for  Cannon's  Ferry,  and  waylaid  Jacob 
just  as  he  was  leading  his  horse  off  the  ferry  scow. 

"  Are  you  going  to  give  me  back  that  ten  dollars,  you 
old  scoundrel  ?"  shouted  O'Day. 

"  Stand  back !  stand  back !"  answered  long  Jacob ;  "  the 
quotient  was  correct ;  the  lex  loci  and  the  lex  terra  were 
argued.  The  lex  talionis — " 

"  Take  it !"  cried  the  villain,  adroitly  firing  his  shot-gun 
into  the  merchant's  breast,  so  as  not  to  injure  his  humaner 
beast. 

Jacob  Cannon  staggered  to  the  fence  at  the  head  of 
the  wharf,  and  caught  there  a  moment,  and  fell  dead. 

"You  scoundrel,"  screamed  Isaac  Cannon  from  the 
window,  "  to  kill  my  brother,  my  executive  comfort.'*' 

"  Yes,"  answered  O'Day,  "  and  I'll  give  the  other  barrel 
to  you !" 

As  Isaac  Cannon  barricaded  himself  in,  Owen  O'Day 
collected  his  effects  without  hurry,  and  betook  himself  to 
the  wilds  of  Missouri. 

Cannon's  Ferry  fell  into  decay  when  the  railroad  at 
Seaford  carried  off  its  trading  importance,  but  there  are 
yet  to  be  seen  the  never  tenanted  mansion  of  the  disap 
pointed  bridegroom,  and  the  gravestones  which  show  how 
Jacob's  fate  frightened  Isaac  Cannon  to  a  speedy  tomb. 

In  the  meantime,  John  M.  Clayton  had  made  use  of 
the  fears  of  Calhoun  and  his  nullifiers,  who  were  men 
aced  with  the  penalties  of  treason  by  the  president,  to 
pass  a  great  protective  tariff  bill  by  their  aid,  thus 
establishing  the  manufactures  in  the  same  period  with 
the  railways. 

This  triumph  in  the  senate  left  him  free  to  conduct  the 
suit  of  Randel  against  the  Canal  Company,  which  occu 
pied  as  many  years  as  the  railroad  enterprise  of  Meshach 
Milburn. 

The  barbarous  system  of  "  pleadings  "  was  then  in  full 


560  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

vogue,  though  soon  to  be  weeded  out  even  in  its  parent 
England,  and  the  law  to  be  made  a  trial  of  facts  instead 
of  traverses,  demurrers,  avoidances,  rebutters  and  surre 
butters,  churned  out  of  the  skim  milk  of  words.  Clayton's 
pleadings  require  a  bold,  dull  mind  to  read  them  now, 
but  he  tired  his  adversaries  out,  and  his  cousin,  Chief- 
Justice  Clayton,  who  was  jealous  of  him,  had  yet  to  decide 
in  his  favor. 

Then,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  the  issue  came  to  trial  at 
the  old  Dutch-English  town  of  New  Castle,  and  from  the 
magnitude  of  the  damages  claimed,  the  weight  and  num 
ber  of  counsel,  and  the  novelty  of  trying  a  great  corpora 
tion,  it  interested  the  lawyers  and  burdened  the  news 
papers,  and  was  popularly  supposed  to  belong  to  the  class 
of  French  spoliation  claims,  or  squaring-the-circle  prob 
lems — something  that  would  be  going  on  at  the  final 
end  of  the  world. 

"  Never  you  mind,  Bob  Frame  !  Walter  Jones  is  a  great 
advocate,  but,  Goy  !  he  don't  know  a  Delaware  jury.  I'll 
get  my  country-seat,  up  here  on  the  New  Castle  hills,  out 
of  this  case,"  Clayton  said,  as  he  pitched  quoits  with  his 
fellow-lawyers  from  Washington  and  Philadelphia,  on  the 
green  battery  where  the  Philadelphia  steamer  came  in 
with  the  Southern  passengers  for  the  little  stone-silled 
railroad. 

John  Randel,  Jr.,  had  ruined  a  fine  engineer,  to  become 
a  litigious  man  all  his  life. 

He  sued  his  successor  and  fellow  New-Yorker,  Engineer 
Wright,  and  was  nonsuited.  He  garnisheecl  the  canal  of 
ficers,  and  beset  the  Legislature  for  remedial  legislation, 
and  threatened  Clayton  himself  with  damages ;  yet  had 
such  a  fund  of  experience  and  such  vitality  that  he  kept 
the  outer  public  beaten  up,  like  the  driving  of  wild  beasts 
into  the  circle  of  the  hunters.  He  had  surveyed  the  great 
city  of  New  York  and  planned  its  streets  above  the  new 
City  Hall.  Elevated  railroads  were  his  projection  half  a 


FAILURE   AND   RESTITUTION.  561 

century  before  they  came  about.  He  now  looked  upon 
engineering  with  indifference,  and  considered  himself  to 
have  been  born  for  the  law. 

In  the  midst  of  many  other  duties,  Clayton,  in  course 
of  time,  convicted  Whitecar  of  kidnapping,  on  negro  tes 
timony,  having  obtained  a  ruling  to  that  end  from  his 
cousin,  the  chief-justice  j  and  a  constituent  named  Sorden 
(not  the  personage  of  our  tale),  being  prosecuted  for  kid 
napping,  in  order  to  spite  Clayton,  was  cleared  by  him  at 
Georgetown  after  a  marvellous  exhibition  of  jury  elo 
quence,  and  repaid  the  obligation,  years  after  our  story 
closes,  by  breaking  a  party  dead-lock  in  the  Legislature 
of  Delaware,  where  he  became  a  member,  and  sending 
Mr.  Clayton  for  the  fourth  time  to  the  American  senate. 
******* 

The  Entailed -Hat  became  more  common  in  the  streets 
of  Annapolis  than  it  had  been  in  Princess  Anne,  as  Mil- 
burn  pressed  his  bill  for  assistance  year  after  year,  and 
was  shot  through  the  back  with  slanders  from  home  and 
hustled  in  front  by  overwhelming  opposition. 

Judge  Custis  took  the  field  for  Congress  on  the  railroad 
issue,  and  was  elected,  through  the  Forest  vote,  and  his 
wife  went  through  a  Washington  season  with  as  much 
dignity  as  enjoyment,  few  suspecting  that  she  was  not  the 
Judge's  social  equal. 

The  ancestral  hat  defied  all  worldly  hostility,  but  be 
came  the  iron  helmet  to  bend  its  wearer's  back.  He 
prayed  in  secret  for  some  pitying  angel  to  break  the  spell 
that  bound  him  to  it,  but  none  conceived  that  he  would 
let  it  go. 

His  boy  grew  strong,  and  took  his  father's  dress  to  be 
a  matter  of  course ;  his  wife  pressed  upon  him  the  nause 
ous  ornament  he  had  so  long  affected  ;  a  wide  conspiracy 
seemed  to  have  been  formed  to  drive  his  head  into  that 
hereditary  wigwam,  and  he  could  not  escape  it. 

Even  Grandmother  Tilghman,who  now  was  an  inmate 
36 


562  THE    ENTAILED   HAT. 

of  Teackle  Hall,  in  William's  absence  of  years,  forgot  all 
about  the  queer  hat,  and  rejoiced  to  herself  that  "  Bill " 
had  not  married  "  that  political  girl." 

Milburn  had  maintained  his  financial  solvency  by  turns 
and  sorties  that  even  his  enemies  admired,  but  a  railroad 
built  along  one  man's  spine  and  terminated  by  a  steeple 
depot  on  his  head  must  wear  out  the  unrelieved  individual 
at  last. 

The  banks  in  Baltimore  began  to  break ;  fierce  riots 
ensued  ;  the  state  debt  had  mounted  up,  through  aid  to 
public  works,  to  fifteen  million  dollars ;  the  Eastern  Shore 
Railroad  obtained,  too  late,  the  vote  of  the  subsidy  expect 
ed,  and  the  state  treasurer  could  not  find  funds  to  pay  it. 

The  gazettes  announced  the  failure  of  Meshach  Mil- 
burn,  Esq.,  of  the  Eastern  Shore. 

Without  an  instant's  hesitation,  Vesta  surrendered  her 
own  property,  and  she  and  Rhoda  Custis  opened  a  select 
school  in  a  part  of  Teackle  Hall,  and  let  the  remainder 
for  residences. 

"  Why  do  you  make  this  sacrifice?"  asked  her  husband; 
11  nobody  expected  it." 

"  They  may  say  we  were  married  to  protect  my  parents," 
Vesta  answered,  "  but  not  that  it  was  to  secure  myself.  My 
boy  shall  have  a  clear  name." 

His  failure  ended  the  active  life  of  Meshach  Milburn  ; 
too  considerate  of  his  family  to  renew  his  former  low  en 
deavors,  he  became  a  clerk  in  the  county  offices,  through 
Judge  Custis's  influence,  and  wore  his  hat  to  stipendiary 
labor  with  the  regularity,  but  not  the  rebellious  instincts, 
of  old  days,  becoming,  instead,  the  victim  of  a  certain  re 
ligious  trance  or  apathy,  which  deepened  with  time. 

Vesta  saw  that  Milburn's  misfortune  extinguished  the 
last  remnant  of  animosity  in  her  father's  mind,  and  the 
two  men  went  about  together,  like  two  old  boys  who  had 
both  been  prisoners  of  war,  and  were  cured  of  ambition. 

Milburn  resumed  his  forest  walks  and  bird-tamings,  all 


FAILURE    AND    RESTITUTION.  563 

traces  of  ambition  left  his  countenance,  and  he  was  as 
dead  to  business  things  as  if  he  had  never  risen  above 
his  forest  origin. 

He  often  talked  of  William  Tilghman,  and  seemed  to 
wish  to  see  him,  though  for  no  apparent  purpose. 

The  Asiatic  cholera,  having  begun  to  make  annual  vis 
its  to  the  United  States,  singled  out,  one  day,  the  wearer 
of  the  obsolete  hat,  and  put  to  the  sternest  test  of  affec 
tion  and  humanity  the  household  at  Teackle  Hall. 

Whether  from  the  respect  his  steady  purposes  had 
given  them,  or  the  natural  devotion  in  a  sequestered  soci 
ety,  no  soul  left  his  side. 

But  it  brought  the  final  visitation  of  poverty  upon  Vesta. 
Her  school  was  broken  up  in  a  day.  She  dismissed  it 
herself,  and  calmly  sat  by  her  husband's  bed,  to  soothe 
his  dying  weakness,  and  await  the  providence  of  God. 

He  rapidly  passed  through  the  stages  of  cramp  and 
collapse,  a  nearly  perished  pulse,  and  the  cadaverous 
look  of  one  already  dead,  yet  his  intellect,  by  the  law  of 
the  disease,  lived  unimpaired. 

"  The  stream  cannot  rise  above  the  fountain,"  he  spoke, 
huskily ;  "  all  we  can  get  from  life  is  love.  My  darling, 
you  have  showered  it  on  me,  and  been  thirsty  all  your 
days." 

"I  have  been  happy  in  my  duty/'  Vesta  said;  "you 
have  been  kind  to  me  always.  We  have  nothing  to  re 
gret." 

He  wandered  a  little,  though  he  looked  at  her,  and 
seemed  thinking  of  his  mother. 

"  Where  can  we  go  ?"  he  muttered,  pitifully  j  "  I  burned 
the  dear  old  hut  down.  It  would  have  been  a  roof  for 
my  boy." 

His  chin  trembled,  as  if  he  were  about  to  cry,  and  sighed : 

"Fader  an'  mammy's  quarrelled;  the  mocking-bird 
won't  sing.  Ride  for  the  doctor  !  ride  hard  !  Oh  !  oh  ! 
too  late,  little  chillen  !  They'se  both  dead  !" 


564  THE    ENTAILED    HAT. 

He  returned  to  perfect  knowledge  in  a  moment,  and 
fixed  his  eyes  on  Vesta,  saying, 

"  I  leave  you  poor.     I  tried  hard.     Perhaps — " 

His  eye  was  here  arrested  by  some  conflict  at  the  door, 
where  Aunt  Hominy,  notwithstanding  her  imperfect  wits, 
was  striving  to  keep  guard. 

"  De  debbil's  measurin'  him  in  !  Measurin'  him  in  at 
Las' !"  the  old  woman  said;  "  Miss  Vessy's  'mos'  free!" 

"  Admit  me !"  spoke  a  clear,  familiar  voice,  "  I  must 
see  him.  Mr.  Clayton  has  won  the  lawsuit,  and  two  hun 
dred  and  twenty-six  thousand  dollars  damages  !  Cousin 
Meshach  is  rich  again." 

"  That  friendly  voice,"  spoke  Meshach,  with  a  happy 
light  in  his  eyes  ;  "  oh,  I  wanted  to  hear  it  again  !" 

Yet  he  put  his  hand  up  with  all  his  little  strength  to 
push  away  the  intruder,  who  would  have  kissed  him,  and 
whispered, 

"  No.     The  cholera  !" 

"  It's  the  bishop,  uncle  !"  cried  Mrs.  Custis  ;  "  Bishop 
Tilghman,  from  the  West." 

"  Don't  I  know  him,"  Milburn  whispered,  with  sinking 
voice  and  powers.  "Honest  man!  Bishop  of  our  church! 
Bishop  in  the  free  West !  God  bless  him  !" 

He  was  lost  again,  as  if  he  had  fainted,  for  some  time, 
and,  all  kneeling,  the  young  bishop  made  a  prayer. 

When  they  arose  Milburn  seemed  speechless,  yet  he 
tried  to  raise  his  hand,  and,  Vesta  coming  to  his  aid,  his 
long,  lean  fingers  closed  around  hers,  and  he  signalled  to 
William  Tilghman  with  his  eyes. 

The  bishop  came  near,  and,  by  a  painful  effort,  Mil- 
burn  put  his  wife's  hand  in  her  cousin's.  His  lips  framed 
a  word  without  a  sound  : 

"  Restitution" 

"  Glory  to  God !"  suddenly  exclaimed  Grandmother 
Tilghman,  who  seemed  to  see  without  sight  all  that  was 
going  on. 


FAILURE    AND    RESTITUTION.  565 

"  I  knew  it  would  be  so,  if  both  would  wait,"  sighed 
Rhoda  to  her  husband,  through  her  tears. 

There  was  still  something  on  Milburn's  mind,  though 
he  was  unable  to  explain  it.  Every  attempt  was  made 
to  interpret  his  want,  but  in  vain,  till  Aunt  Hominy  broke 
the  silence  by  mumbling : 

"  He  want  dat  debbil's  hat !" 

Vesta  saw  her  husband's  eyes  twinkle  as  if  he  had 
heard  the  word,  and  it  gave  her  a  thought.  She  left  the 
room,  and  returned  with  her  boy,  a  fine  young  fellow, 
obedient  to  her  wish.  In  his  hand  was  his  father's  hat. 

"  What  will  you  do  if  papa  leaves  us,  Custis  ?"  Vesta 
spoke,  loudly,  so  that  the  dying  man  could  hear. 

"  I  will  wear  my  forefather's  hat,  papa  !"  said  the  child. 

The  dying  man  drooped  his  eyes,  as  if  to  say  "  No," 
and  looked  fervently  at  his  son  and  wearily  at  the  old 
headpiece. 

Vesta  placed  it  on  his  pillow,  and  waited  to  know  his 
next  wish. 

He  made  a  sign,  which  they  interpreted  to  mean, 

"  Lift  me !" 

He  was  lifted  up,  livid  as  the  dead,  and  raised  his  eyes 
towards  his  forehead. 

His  wife  set  the  Entailed  Hat  upon  his  temples. 

"  Bury  it !"  he  said,  in  a  distinct  whisper^  and  passed 
away. 


THE    END. 


SOME  POPULAR  NOVELS 

Published  by  HAEPEE  &  BEOTHEKS  New  York, 


The  Octavo  Paper  Novels  in  this  list  may  be  obtained  in  half-binding  [leather  backs 
and  pasteboard  sides],  suitable  for  Public  and  Circulating  Libraries,  at  25  cents 
per  volume,  in  addition  to  the  prices  named  below.  The  32mo  Paper  Novels  may  be 
obtained  in  Cloth,  at  15  cents  per  volume  in  addition  to  the  prices  named  below. 

For  a  FULL  LIST  OF  NOVELS  published  by  HARVER  &  BROTHERS,  see  HARPER'S  NEW 
AND  REVISED  CATALOGUE,  which  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  ad 
dress  in  the  United  States,  on  receipt  of  Ten  cents. 


BAKER'S  (Rev.  W.  M.)  Carter  Quarterman.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  $  60 

Inside:  a  Chronicle  of  Secession.  Illustrated 8vo,Paper  75 

The  New  Timothy 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50;  4to,  Paper  25 

The  Virginians  in  Texas 8vo,  Paper  75 

BENEDICT'S  (F.  L.)  John  Worthington's  Name 8 vo,  Paper  75 

Miss  Dorothy's  Charge 8vo,  Paper  75 

Miss  Van  Kortland 8vo,  Paper  60 

Mr.  Vaughan's  Heir 8vo,  Paper  75 

My  Daughter  Elinor 8vo,  Paper  80 

St.  Simon's  Niece 8vo,  Paper  60 

BLACK'S  (W.)  A  Daughter  of  Hcth .  12mo,  Cloth,  $125;  8vo,  Paper  85 

A  Princess  of  Thule 12mo,Cloth,  125;  Svo,  Paper  50 

Green  Pastures  and  Piccadilly..  12mo,  Cloth,  125;  8  vo,  Paper  50 

In  Silk  Attire 12mo,Cloth,  125;  Svo,  Paper  35 

Kilmeny 12mo,  Cloth,  1  25;  Svo,  Paper  35 

Macleod  of  Dare.  Illustrated.  12mo,  Cloth,  125;  8vo,  Paper  60 

4to,  Paper  15 

Madcap  Violet./. 12mo,  Cloth,  125;  8vo,  Paper  50 

Shandon  Bells.  Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  125;  4to,  Paper  20 

Sunrise 12mo,  Cloth,  1  25;  4to,  Paper  15 

That  Beautiful  Wretch.  Ill'd...l2mo,  Cloth,  125;  4to,  Paper  20 

The  Maid  of  Killeena,  and  Other  Stories Svo,  Paper  40 

The  Monarch  of  Mincing-Lane.  Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Strange  Adventures  of  a  Phaeton.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25  ;  Svo,  Pa.  50 

Three  Feathers.  Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth  1  25 

White  Wings.  Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25  ;  4to,  Paper  20 

Yolande.  Illustrated 1 2mo,  Cloth,  125;  4to,  Paper  20 

BLACKMORE'S  (R.  D.)  Alice  Lorraine Svo,  Paper  50 

Christowell 4to,  Paper  20 

Clara  Vaughan 4to,  Paper  15 

Cradock  Nowell Svo,  Paper  60 

Cripps,  the  Carrier.  Illustrated 8vo,Paper  50 

Erema Svo,  Paper  50 

Lorna  Doone 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  00;  Svo,  Paper  25 

Mary  Anerley 16mo,  Cloth,  100;  4to,  Paper  15 

The  Maid  of  Sker Svo,  Paper  50 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


PKIOK 

BLACKMORE'S  (R.  D.)  Tommy  Upmore 16mo,  Paper  $  35 

16mo,  Cloth,  50  cents  ;    4to,  Paper  20 

BRADDOX'S  (Miss)  An  Open  Verdict 8vo,  Paper  35 

A  Strange  World Svo,  Paper  40 

Asphodel 4to,  Paper  15 

Aurora  Floyd Svo,  Paper  40 

Barbara;  or,  Splendid  Misery 4to,  Paper  15 

Birds  of  Prey.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Bound  to  John  Company.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Charlotte's  Inheritance Svo,  Paper  35 

Dead  Men's  Shoes Svo,  Paper  40 

Dead  Sea  Fruit.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Eleanor's  Victory Svo,  Paper  GO 

Fenton's  Quest.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Flower  and  Weed 4to,  Paper  10 

Hostages  to  Fortune.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

John  Marchmont's  Legacy Svo,  Paper  50 

Joshua  Haggard's  Daughter.      Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Just  as  I  Am 4to,  Paper  15 

Lost  for  Love.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Mistletoe  Bough,  1878.     Edited  by  M.  E.  Braddon 4to,  Paper  15 

Mistletoe  Bough,  1879.     Edited  by  M.  E.  Braddon 4to,  Paper  10 

Mount  Royal , 4to,  Paper  15 

Phantom  Fortune 4to,  Paper  20 

Publicans  and  Sinners Svo,  Paper  50 

Strangers  and  Pilgrims.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Taken  at  the  Flood Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Cloven  Foot  4to,  Paper  15 

The  Lovels  of  Arden.      Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

To  the  Bitter  End.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Under  the  Red  Flag 4to,  Paper  10 

Vixen 4to,  Paper  15 

Weavers  and  Weft Svo,  Paper  25 

BREAD-WINNERS,  THE 16mo,  Cloth  1  00 

BRONTE'S  (Charlotte)  Jane  Eyre.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth  1  00 

4to,  Paper,  15  cents;     Svo,  Paper  40 

Shirley.    Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  00;      Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Professor.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth  1  00 

Villette.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,     100;     Svo,  Paper  50 

BRONTE'S  (Anna)  The  Tenant  of  Wildfell  Hall.     HIM....  12mo,  Cloth  1  00 

BRONTE'S  (Emily)  Wuthering  Heights.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth  1  00 

BULWER'S  (Lytton)  Alice Svo,  Paper  35 

A  Strange  Story.    Illustrated....  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25  ;       Svo,  Paper  50 

Devereux Svo,  Paper  40 

Ernest  Maltravers Svo,  Paper  35 

Eugene  Aram Svo,  Paper  35 

Godolphin ...Svo,  Paper  35 

Harold,  the  Last  of  the  Saxon  Kings Svo,  Paper  60 

Kenelm  Chillingly 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25;       Svo,  Paper  50 


Harper  d*  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


PKICK 

BULWER'S  (Lytton)  Leila 12mo,  Cloth,     100;         8vo,  Paper  $    25 

Lucretia 8vo,  Paper       40 

My  Novel 2  vols.     12nio,  Cloth,    250;         8 vo,  Paper       75 

Night  and  Morning 8 vo,  Paper       50 

Paul  Clifford 8vo,  Paper       40 

Pausanias  the  Spartan 12mo,  Cloth,  75  cents  ;     8vo,  Paper       25 

Pelham 8vo,  Paper       40 

Ricn/i t 8vo,  Paper       40 

The  Caxtons 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25;         8 vo,  Paper       50 

The  Coming  Ilace A 12mo,  Cloth,     100;      12mo,  Paper       50 

The  Disowned 8vo,  Paper       50 

The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii 8vo,  Paper,  25  ;  4to,  Paper       15 

The  Last  of  the  Barons 8vo,  Paper       50 

The  Parisians.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50;        8vo,  Paper       60 

The  Pilgrims  of  the  Rhine 8 vo,  Paper       20 

What  will  He  do  with  it? 8vo,  Paper      75 

Zanoni  8vo,  Paper       35 

CRAIK'S  (Miss  G.  M.)  Dorcas 4 to,  Paper       15 

Mildred 8vo,  Paper       30 

Anne  Warwick 8vo,  Paper       25 

Fortune's  Marriage 4to,  Paper       20 

Godfrey  Helstone  4to,  Paper       20 

Hard  to  Bear 8vo,  Paper       30 

Sydney 4to,  Paper       1 5 

Sylvia's  Choice 8vo,  Paper       30 

Two  Women 4to,  Paper       1 5 

COLLINS'S  (Willde)  Novels.  Ill'd  Library  Edition.  12mo,  Cloth,  per  vol.   1  25 
After  Dark,  and  Other  Stores. — Antonina. — Armadale. — Basil. — 

Hidc-and-Seek. — Man  and  Wife. — My  Miscellanies. — No  Name. 

— Poor  Miss  Finch. — The  Dead  Secret. — The  Law  and  the  Lady. 

— The  Moonstone. — The  New  Magdalen. — The  Queen  of  Hearts. 

— The  Two  Destinies. — The  Woman  in  White. 

Antonina 8vo,  Paper 

Armadale.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

"  I  Say  No  ".IGmo,  Cloth,  50  cts. ;  16mo,  Paper,  35  cts. ;     4to,  Paper 

Man  and  Wife 4to,  Paper 

My  Lady's  Money 32mo,  Paper 

No  Name.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

Percy  and  the  Prophet 32mo,  Paper 

Poor  Miss  Finch.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

The  Law  and  the  Lady.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

TJhc  Moonstone.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

The  New  Magdalen 8vo,  Paper 

The  Two  Destinies.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

The  Woman  in  White.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

DICKENS'S  (Charles)  Works.     Household  Edition.     Illustrated.     8vo. 

Set  of  16  vols.,  Cloth,  in  box 22  00 

.     The  same  in  8  vols.,  Cloth 20  00 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


DICKENS'S  (Charles)  Works.     Household  Edition.     Illustrated.     8vo. 


A  Tale  of  Two  Citics.Papcr  $ 

Cloth  1 

Barnaby  Rudire Paper  1 

Cloth  1 

Bleak  House Paper  1 

Cloth  1 

Christmas  Stories Paper  1 


David  Copperfield. .  .Paper  1 

Cloth  1 
Dombey  and  Son Paper  1 

Cloth  1 
Great  Expectations.. . Paper  1 

Cloth  1 
Little  Dorrit Paper  1 

Cloth  1 
Martin  Chuzzlewit.... Paper  1 


Martin  Chnzzlewit Cloth  $1   50 

Nicholas  Nickleby Paper  1 

Cloth  1 
Oliver  Twist Paper 

Cloth 
Our  Mutual  Friend Paper 

Cloth 
Pickwick  Papers Paper 

Cloth 

Pictures  from  Italy,  Sketches  by 
Box,  American  Notes  ...Paper 

Cloth 
The  Old  Curiosity  Shop 

Cloth 

Uncommercial    Traveller,  Hard 
Times,  Edwin  Drood... Paper 

Cloth 


Pickwick  Papers 4to,  Paper 

The  Mudfog  Papers,  &c 4to,  Paper 

Mystery  of  Edwin  Drood.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

Hard  Times Svo,  Paper 

Mrs.  Lirriper's  Legacy Svo,  Paper 

DE  MILLE'S  A  Castle  in  Spain.  Ill'd.  Svo,  Cloth,  $1  00  ;        Svo,  Paper 

Cord  and  Creese.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

The  American  Baron.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

The  Cryptogram.     Illustrated } Svo,  Paper 

The  Dodge  Club.     Illustrated...  .Svo,  Paper,  60  cents  ;     Svo,  Cloth 
The  Living  Link.     Illustrated. ...Svo,  Paper,  60  cents  ;     Svo,  Cloth 

DISRAELI'S^  (Earl  of  Beaconsfield)  Endymion 4 to,  Paper 

The  Young  Duke 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50;      4to,  Paper 

ELIOT'S  (George)  Novels.    Library  Edition.    Ill'd.  12mo,  Cloth,  per  vol. 

Popular  Edition.     Illustrated 1 2mo,  Cloth,  per  vol. 

Adam  Bede. — Daniel  Deronda,  2  vols. — Felix  Holt,  the  Radical. — 
Middlemarch,  2  vols. — Romola. — Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  and 
Silas  Marner. — The  Mill  on  the  Floss. 

Amos  Barton 32mo,  Paper 

Brother  Jacob. — The  Lifted  Veil 32mo,  Paper 

Daniel  Deronda Svo,  Paper 

Felix  Holt,  the  Radical Svo,  Paper 

Janet's  Repentance 32mo,  Paper 

Middlemarch Svo,  Paper 

Mr.  GilfiPs  Love  Story 32mo,  Paper 

Romola.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

Silas  Marner 12mo,  Paper 

Scenes  of  Clerical  Life Svo,  Paper 

The  Mill  on  the  Floss Svo,  Paper 

GASKELL'S  (Mrs.)  A  Dark  Night's  Work Svo,  Paper 

Cousin  Phillis Svo,  Paper 


00 
50 
50 
00 
00 
50 
00 
50 

00 
50 
75 
25 

00 
50 
20 
10 
25 
25 
10 
50 
60 
50 
75 
10 
10 
15 
15 
25 

75 


20 
20 
50 
50 
20 
75 
20 
50 
20 
50 
50 
25 
20 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


TKIOE 

GASKELL'S(Mrs.)Cranford 16mo,  Cloth  $1  25 

Mary  Barton 8vo,  Paper,  40  cents  ;  4to,  Paper  20 

Moorland  Cottage 18mo,  Cloth  75 

My  Lady  Ludlow 8 vo,  Paper  20 

North  and  South 8vo,  Paper  40 

Right ,  at  Last,  &c 12 mo,  Cloth  1  50 

Sylvia's  Lovers. 8vo,  Paper  40 

Wives  and  Daughters.  Illustrated  8vo,  Paper  60 

HARRISON'S  (Mrs.)  Helen  Troy IGuio,  Cloth  1  00 

Golden  Rod 32mo,  Paper  25 

HAY'S  (M.  C.)  A  Dark  Inheritance 32mo,  Paper  15 

A  Shadow  on  the  Threshold 32mo,  Paper  20 

Among  the  Ruins,  and  Other  Stories 4to,  Paper  15 

At  the  Seaside,  and  Other  Stories 4to,  Paper  15 

Back  to  the  Old  Home 32mo,  Paper  20 

Bid  Me  Discourse 4to,  Paper  10 

Dorothy's  Venture 4to,  Paper  15 

For  Her  Dear  Sake 4to,  Paper  15 

Hidden  Perils  8 vo,  Paper  25 

Into  the  Shade,  and  Other  Stories 4to,  Paper  1 5 

Lady  Carmichael's  Will 32mo,  Paper  15 

Missing 32mo,  Paper  20 

My  First  Offer,  and  Other  Stories 4to,  Paper  1 5 

Nora's  Love  Test 8vo,  Paper  25 

Old  Myddelton's  Money  8vo,  Paper  25 

Reaping  the  Whirlwind 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Arundel  Motto 8vo,  Paper  25 

The  Sorrow  of  a  Secret 32mo,  Paper  15 

The  Squire's  Legacy 8vo,  Paper  25 

Under  Life's  Key,  and  Other  Stories 4 to,  Paper  15 

Victor  and  Vanquished 8vo,  Paper  25 

HUGO'S  (Victor)  Ninety-Three.  Ill'd.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75  ;  8vo,  Paper  25 

The  Toilers  of  the  Sea.  Ill'd 8vo,  Cloth,  1  50 ;  8 vo,  Paper  50 

JAMES'S  (Henry,  Jim.)  Daisy  Miller 32mo,  Paper  20 

An  International  Episode 32mo,  Paper  20 

Diary  of  a  Man  of  Fifty,  and  A  Bundle  of  Letters 32mo,  Paper  25 

The  four  above-mentioned  works  in  one  volume 4to,  Paper  25 

Washington  Square.  Illustrated 1  Gmo,  Cloth  125 

JOHNSTON'S  (R.  M.)  Dukesborough  Tales.  Illustrated 4to,  Paper  25 

Old  Mark  Langston 16mo,  Cloth  1  00 

LANG'S  (Mrs.)  Dissolving  Views...  16mo,  Cloth,  50  cents  ;     16mo,  Paper  35 

LAWRENCE'S  (G.  A.)  Anteros 8vo,  Paper  40 

Brakespeare 8vo,  Paper  40 

Breaking  a  Butterfly 8vo,  Paper  35 

Guy  Livingstone 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50;  4to,  Paper  10 

Hagarene  8vo,  Paper  35 

Maurice  Dcring 8vo,  Paper  25 

Sans  Merci Svo,  Paper  35 

Sword  and  Gown Svo,  Paper  20 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


LEVER'S  (Charles)  A  Day's  Ride 8 vo,  Paper! 

Barrington 8vo,  Paper 

Gerald  Fitzgerald 8vo,  Paper 

Lord  Kilgobbin.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

Luttrell  of  Arran Svo,  Paper 

Maurice  Tiernay 8 vo,  Paper 

One  of  Them 8vo,  Paper 

Roland  Cashel.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

Sir  Brook  Fosbrooke Svo,  Paper 

Sir  Jasper  Carew Svo,  Paper 

That  Boy  of  Norcott's.     Illustrated  Svo,  Paper 

The  Bramleighs  of  Bishop's  Folly Svo,  Paper 

The  Daltons \ Svo,  Paper 

The  Dodd  Family  Abroad Svo,  Paper 

The  Fortunes  of  Glencore Svo,  Paper 

The  Martins  of  Cro'  Martin Svo,  Paper 

Tony  Butler Svo,  Paper 

MeCARTHY'S  (Justin)  Comet  of  a  Season 4  to,  Paper 

Donna  Quixote 4to,  Paper 

Maid  of  Athens  .; 4to,  Paper 

My  Enemy's  Daughter.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

The  Commander's  Statue 32rao,  Paper 

The  Waterdale  Neighbors Svo,  Paper 

MACDOXALD'S  (George)  Alec  Forbes Svo,  Paper 

Annals  of  a  Quiet  Neighborhood 1 2mo,  Cloth 

Donal  Grant 4 to,  Paper 

Guild  Court ,8vo,  Paper 

Warlock  o'  Glenwarlock 4 to,  Paper 

Weighed  and  Wanting 4 to,  Paper 

MULOCK'S  (Miss)  A  Brave  Lady.  HIM.   12mo,  CI.,  90  cents. ;  Svo,  Paper 
A  French  Country  Family.    Translated.    Illustrated....  12mo,  Cloth 

Agatha's  Husband,     lll'd 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;     Svo,  Paper 

A  Hero,  &c 12mo,  Cloth 

A  Life  for  a  Life 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;     Svo,  Paper 

A  Noble  Life 12mo,  Cloth 

Avillion,  and  Other  Talcs Svo,  Paper 

Christian's  Mistake 12mo,  Cloth 

Hannah.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;     Svo,  Paper 

Head  of  the  Family,     lll'd 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents  ;     Svo,  Paper 

His  Little  Mother 1 2mo,  Cloth,  90  cents ;      4 to,  Paper 

John  Halifax,  Gentleman.          Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;    4to,  Paper 

Mistress  and  Maid 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;     Svo,  Paper 

Motherless.     Translated.  Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth 

My  Mother  and  I.  Illustrated..  12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents  ;     Svo,  Paper 

Nothing  New Svo,  Paper 

Ogilvies.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;     Svo,  Paper 

Olive.     Illustrated 12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents;      Svo,  Paper 

The  Laurel  Bush.    lll'd ,.12mo,  Cloth,  90  cents  ;      Svo,  Paper 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


MULOCK'S  (Miss)  The  Woman's  Kingdom.  Hid 1 2mo,  Cloth  $  90 

Svo,  Paper  60 

Two  Marriages 12mo,  Clotli  90 

Unkind  Word,  and  Other  Stories 1 2mo,  Cloth  90 

Young  Mrs.  Jardine 12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25;  4 to,  Paper  10 

MURRAY'S  (D.  C.)  A  Life's  Atonement 4to,  Paper  20 

A  Model  Father 4to,  Paper  10 

By  the  Gate  of  the  Sea 4 to,  Paper,  15  cents  ;  12 mo,  Paper  15 

Hearts 4 to,  Paper  20 

The  Way  of  the  World 4 to,  Paper  20 

Val  Strange 4to,  Paper  20 

XORRIS'S  (W.  E.)  Heaps  of  Money Svo,  Paper  15 

Mademoiselle  de  Mersac 4 to,  Paper  20 

No  New  Thing 4to,  Paper  25 

Thirlby  Hall.  Illustrated., 4 to,  Paper  25 

OLIPHANT'S (Laurence)  Altiora  Peto.4to,  Paper,  20  cts. ;  16mo,  Paper  20 

Piccadilly 16mo,  Paper  25 

OLIPHANT'S  (Mrs.)  Agnes Svo,  Paper  50 

A  Son  of  the  Soil Svo,  Paper  50 

Athelings Svo,  Paper  50 

Brownlows 8 vo,  Paper  50 

Carita.  Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Chronicles  of  Carlingford Svo,  Paper  00 

Days  of  My  Life 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

For  Love  and  Life Svo,  Paper  50 

Harry  Joscelyn 4to,  Paper  20 

He  That  Will  Not  when  He  May 4to,  Paper  20 

Hester .' 4to,  Paper  20 

Innocent.  Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

It  was  a  Lover  and  His  Lass 4to,  Paper  20 

John:  a  Love  Story Svo,  Paper  25 

Katie  Stewart Svo,  Paper  20 

Lady  Jane 4to,  Paper  10 

Lucy  Crofton 12rno,  Cloth  1  50 

Madonna  Mary Svo,  Paper  50 

Miss  Marjoribanks , Svo,  Paper  50 

Mrs.  Arthur Svo,  Paper  40 

Ombra Svo,  Paper  50 

Phoebe,  Junior Svo,  Paper  35 

Sir  Tom 4 to,  Paper  20 

Squire  Arden Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Curate  in  Charge Svo,  Paper  20 

The  Fugitives 4t<>,  Paper  10 

The  Greatest  Heiress  in  England 4 to,  Paper  10 

The  House  on  the  Moor 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

The  Ladies  Lindorcs Kimo,  Cloth,  $1  00;  4 to,  Paper  20 

The  Laird  of  Norlaw 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

The  Last  of  the  Mortimers 12 mo,  Cloth  1  50 

The  Minister's  Wife Svo,  Paper  50 


Harper  d'  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


TKICE 

OLIPHANT'S  (Mrs.)  The  Perpetual  Curate 8  vo,  Paper  $  50 

The  Primrose  Path Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Quiet  Heart Svo,  Paper  20 

The  Story  of  Valentine  and  his  Brother Svo,  Paper  50 

The  Wizard's  Son 4to,  Paper  25 

Within  the  Precincts 4to,  Paper  15 

Young  Musgrave Svo,  Paper  40 

PAYN'S  (James)  A  Beggar  on  Horseback Svo,  Paper  35 

A  Confidential  Agent 4to,  Paper  15 

A  Grape  from  a  Thorn 4to,  Paper  20 

A  Woman's  Vengeance Svo,  Paper  35 

At  Her  Mercy Svo,  Paper  30 

Bred  in  the  Bone .Svo,  Paper  40 

By  Proxy Svo,  Paper  35 

Carlyon's  Year Svo,  Paper  25 

Cecil's  Tryst Svo,  Paper  30 

For  Cash  Only 4to,  Paper  20 

Found  Dead Svo,  Paper  25 

From  Exile , 4to,  Paper  15 

Gwendoline's  Harvest Svo,  Paper  25 

Halves Svo,  Paper  30 

High  Spirits 4to,  Paper  1 5 

Kit.     Illustrated 4 to,  Paper  20 

Less  Black  than  We're  Painted Svo,  Paper  35 

Murphy's  Master Svo,  Paper  20 

One  of  the  Family Svo,  Paper  25 

The  Best  of  Husbands Svo,  Paper  25 

The  Canon's  Ward.     Illustrated ..4to,  Paper  25 

Thicker  than  Water 1 61110,  Cloth,  $1  00;         4to,  Paper  20 

Under  One  Koof 4 to,  Paper  15 

Walter's  Word 8vo,  Paper  50 

What  He  Cost  Her Svo,  Paper  40 

\Von — Not  Wooed Svo,  Paper  30 

READE'S  Novels :  Household  Edition.     Ill'd 12jtno,  Cloth 

A  Perilous  Secret 75 

The  following  are  per  volume 1  00 


A  Simpleton  and  Wandering  Heir. 

A  Terrible  Temptation. 

A  Woman-Hater. 

Foul  Play. 

Good  Stories. 

Griffith  Gaunt. 

Hard  Cash. 


It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend. 
Love  me  Little,  Love  me  Long. 
Peg  Woffington,  Christie  John- 
stone,  &c. 

Put  Yourself  in  His  Place. 
The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth. 
White  Lies. 


A  Perilous  Secret 1C  mo,  Paper,  40  cents;     4to,  Paper  20 

A  Hero  and  a  Martyr Svo,  Paper  1 5 

A  Simpleton Svo,  Paper  80 

A  Terrible  Temptation.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  25 

A  Woman-Hater.     Ill'd Svo,  Paper,  30  cents;     12mo,  Paper  20 

Foul  Play Svo,  Paper  30 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


VUICE 
READE'S  (Charles)  Good  Stones  of  Man  and  Other  Animals.    Ill'd  .... 

4to,  Paper  $  20 

Griffith  Gaunt.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  30 

Hard  Cash.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  85 

It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend 8vo,  Paper  35 

Jack  of  all  Trades 16mo,  Paper  15 

Love  Me  Little,  Love  Me  Long Svo,  Paper  30 

Multum  inParvo.     Illustrated..... 4to,  Paper  15 

Peg  Woffington,  &c.. Svo,  Paper  85 

Put  Yourself  in  His  Place.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  35 

The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth Svo,  Paper  35 

The  Coming  Man.. 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Jilt 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Picture 16mo,  Paper  15 

The  Wandering  Heir.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  20 

White  Lies Svo,  Paper  30 

RICE  &  BESANT'S  All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men 4 to,  Paper  20 

By  Celia's  Arbor.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Shepherds  All  and  Maidens  Fair 82mo,  Paper  25 

"  So  they  were  Married  !"     Illustrated 4 to,  Paper  20 

Stotift'&feltyvMy  Heart's  Delight 4 to,  Paper  10 

The  Captains'  Room 4to,  Paper  10 

The  Chaplain  of  the  Fleet 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Golden  Butterfly Svo,  Paper  40 

Twas  in  Trafalgar's  Bay 32mo,  Paper  20 

When  the  Ship  Comes  Home 32mo,  Paper  25 

ROBINSON'S  (F.  W.)  A  Bridge  of  Glass Svo,  Paper  30 

A  Girl's  Romance,  and  Other  Stories Svo,  Paper  30 

As  Long  as  She  Lived Svo,  Paper  50 

Carry's  Confession. Svo,  Paper  50 

Christie's  Faith 12mo,  Cloth  1  75 

Coward  Conscience 4to,  Paper  15 

For  Her  Sake.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  60 

Her  Face  was  Her  Fortune Svo,  Paper  40 

Little  Kate  Kirby.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Mattie:  a  Stray Svo,  Paper  40 

No  Man's  Friend Svo,  Paper  50 

Othello  the  Second..... 32mo,  Paper  20 

Poor  Humanity Svo,  Paper  50 

Poor  Zeph! 32mo,  Paper  20 

Romance  on  Four  Wheels Svo,  Paper  15 

Second-Cousin  Sarah.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Stern  Necessity Svo,  Paper  40 

The  Barmaid  at  Battleton 32mo,  Paper  15 

The  Black  Speck 4to,  Paper  10 

The  Hands  of  Justice 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Man  She  Cared  For 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Romance  of  a  Back  Street 32mo,  Paper  15 

True  to  Herself Svo,  Paper  50 


10  Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


KUSSELL'S  (W.  Clark)  Auld  Lang  Syne  ........................  4to,  Paper 

A  Sailor's  Sweetheart  ............................................  4to,  Paper 

A  Sea  Queen  .........................  IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00;       4to,  Paper 

An  Ocean  Free  Lance  ......................................  .....  4to,  Paper 

Jack's  Courtship  .................................................  4to,  Paper 

John  Holdsworth,  Chief  Mate  .................................  4to,  Paper 

Little  Loo  ..........................................................  4to,  Paper 

My  Watch  Below  .................................................  4to,  Paper 

Round  the  Galley  Fire  ................................  .  ..........  4to,  Paper 

The  "Lady  Maud:"  Schooner  Yacht.     Illustrated  ........  4to,  Paper 

Wreck  of  the  "  Grosvcnor  "  .....  8vo,  Paper,  30  cents  ;      4to,  Paper 

SHERWOOD'S  (Mrs.  John)  A  Transplanted  Rose  ............  12-mo,  Cloth  1 

TABOR'S  (Eliza)  Eglantine  .................  .........................  8vo,  Paper 

Hope  Meredith  ...................................................  8vo,  Paper 

Jeanie's  Quiet  Life  ......................  ..........  .  .............  8vo,  Paper 

Little  Miss  Primrose  .............................................  4to,  Paper 

Meta's  Faith  .......................................................  Svo,  Paper 

St.  Olave's  .........................................................  Svo,  Paper 

The  Blue  Ribbon  .................................................  Svo,  Paper 

The  Last  of  Her  Line  ...........................................  4to,  Paper 

The  Senior  Songman  .............................................  4to,  Paper 

THACKERAY'S  (Miss)  Bluebeard's  Keys  .......................  Svo,  Paper       35 

Da  Capo  ...............................................  .  ...........  32mo,  Paper       20 

Miscellaneous  Works  ..........................................  Svo,  Paper       90 

Miss  Angel.     Illustrated  ......................................  Svo,  Paper       50 

Miss  Williamson's  Divagations  .................................  4to,  Paper       15 

Old  Kensington.      Illustrated  .  ...........  .  ....................  Svo,  Paper       GO 

Village  on  the  Cliff.     Illustrated  ............................  Svo,  Paper       25 

THACKERAY'S  (W.  M.)  Denis  Duval.     Illustrated  ..........  Svo,  Paper       25 

Henry  Esmond,  and  Lovel  the  Widower.     12  Ill's  .......  Svo,  Paper       60 

Henry  Esmond  ...........................  8vo,  Pa.,50  cents;     4to,  Paper       15 

Lovel  the  Widower  ..............................................  Svo,  Paper       20 

Pendennis.     179  Illustrations  .................................  Svo,  Paper       75 

The  Adventures  of  Philip.     64  Illustrations  ...............  Svo,  Paper       60 

The  Great  Hoggarty  Diamond  .................................  Svo,  Paper       20 

The  Newcomes.     162  Illustrations  ...........................  Svo,  Paper       90 

The  Virginians.     1  50  Illustrations  ..........................  Svo,  Paper       90 

Vanity  Fair.     32  Illustrations  .................................  Svo,  Paper       80 

THACKERAY'S  Works.    Illustrated  ................  12mo,  Cloth,  per  vol.   1  25 

Novels:  Vanity  Fair.  —  Pendennis.  —  The  Newcomes.  —  The  Virgin 
ians.  —  Philip.  —  Esmond,  and  Lovel  the  Widower.  6  vols.  Mis 
cellaneous:  Barry  Lyndon,  Hoggarty  Diamond,  &c.  —  Paris  and 
Irish  Sketch-Books,  &c.  —  Book  of  Snobs,  Sketches,  &c.  —  Four 
Georges,  English  Humorists,  Roundabout  Papers,  &c.  —  Catharine, 
&c.  5  vols. 

TOWNSEND'S  (G.  A.)  The  Entailed  Hat  ........................  IGmo,  Cloth  1   50 

TROLLOPE'S  (Anthony)  An  Eye  for  an  Eye  .....................  4  to,  Paper       10 

An  Old  Man's  Love  .............................................  4  to,  Paper       15 

Ayala's  Angel  ......................................................  4to,  Paper       20 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels.  11 


TROLLOPE'S  (Anthony)  Brown,  Jones,  and  Robinson 8vo,  Paper  $  35 

Can  You  Forgive  Her  ?  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

Castle  Richmond 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

Cousin  Henry 4to,  Paper  10 

Doctor  Thome 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

Doctor  Wortle's  School 4to,  Paper  15 

Framlcy  Parsonage 4to,  Paper  15 

Harry  Heathcote  of  Gangoil.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  20 

He  Knew  He  was  Right.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

Is  He  Popcnjoy? 4 to,  Paper  20 

John  Caldigate 4to,  Paper  15 

Kept  in  the  Dark 4to,  Paper  15 

Lady  Anna 8vo,  Paper  30 

Marion  Fay.  Illustrated ,.4to,  Paper  20 

Miss  Mackenzie 8vo,  Paper  3 5 

Mr.  Scarborough's  Family 4to,  Paper  20 

Orley  Farm.  Illustrated" 8vo,  Paper  80 

Phirieas  Finn.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

Phineas  Redux.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

Rachel  Ray 8vo,  Paper  35 

Ralph  the  Heir.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

Sir  Harry  Hotspur  of  Humblethwaite.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  35 

The  American  Senator 8vo,  Paper  50 

The  Belton  Estate 8vo,  Paper  35 

The  Bertrams 4to,  Paper  15 

The  Claverings.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  50 

The  Duke's  Children 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Eustace  Diamonds.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

The  Fixed  Period 4to,  Paper  15 

The  Golden  Lion  of  Granpere.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  40 

The  Lady  of  Launay 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Last  Chronicle  "of  Barset.  Illustrated .8vo,  Paper  90 

The  Prime  Minister , 8vo,  Paper  60 

The  Small  House  at  Allington.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

The  Three  Clerks 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

The  Vicar  of  Bullhampton.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

The  Warden,  and  Barchester  Towers 8vo,  Paper  60 

The  Way  We  Live  Now.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  90 

Thompson  Hall.  Illustrated 32mo,  Paper  20 

Why  Frau  Frohman  Raised  her  Prices,  &c 4 to,  Paper  10 

WALLACE'S  (Lew)  Ben-Hur 16mo,  Cloth  1  50 

WAVERLEY  NOVELS.  12mo.  With  2000  Illustrations. 

THISTLE  EDITION 48  Vols.,  Green  Cloth,  per  vol.  1  00 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco,  Gilt  Tops 72  00 

HOLYROOD  EDITION 48  Vols.,  Brown  Cloth,  per  vol.  75 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco,  Gilt  Tops 72  00 

POPULAR  EDITION 24  Vols.,  Green  Cloth,  per  vol.  1  25 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco 54  00 


12  Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 

WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

Wavcrley ;  Guy  Manncring ;  The  Antiquary ;  Rob  Roy ;  Old 
Mortality ;  The  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian ;  A  Legend  of  Montrose ; 
The  Bride  of  Lammermoor ;  The  Black  Dwarf;  Ivanhoe;  The 
Monastery;  The  Abbot;  Kenihvorth ;  The  Pirate ;  The  Fortunes 
of  Nigel ;  Peveril  of  the  Peak ;  Quentin  Durward ;  St.  Ronan's 
Well;  Rcdgauntlet ;  The  Betrothed;  The  Talisman;  Woodstock; 
Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  The  Highland  Widow,  &c. ;  The 
Fair  Maid  of  Perth  ;  Anne  of  Geiersteiu ;  Count  Robert  of  Paris ; 
Castle  Dangerous  ;  The  Surgeon's  Daughter ;  Glossary. 

WOOLSON'S  (C.  F.)  Anne.     Illustrated  by  Reinhart IGmo,  Cloth  $1   25 

For  the  Major.     Illustrated lOmo,  Cloth    1  00 


AKPKU  &  UKOTIIKRB  will  send  ant/  of  the  above  works  by  mail,  postage  prepaid 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO—  +>      202  Main  Library 

LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

Renewals  and  Recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  the  due  dat< 

Books  may  be  Renewed  by  calling     642-3405. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


AUG03  191 

>? 

IQQ  - 

-  1    i      lyy^ 
SEP  °  3  199; 

01  0«  199? 

A/3/£2  i<^ 

;:JTO  DISC  CIRC 

OC1  13  '93 

FORM  NO.  DD6 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERK 
BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


CQl*aastaoa 


M11997 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


